Ghostly Beginnings
by Completely Different
Summary: Thanks to a dare, Danny has an accident in his parent's lab. The accident leaves him with some strange side effects, which makes one thing clear; being a teenager is tough. Being a half dead tennager is even tougher.
1. The Accident

My footsteps echo dimly as I walk into the tunnels, eyes wide in the gloom

This story has been in my head for a while, and I finally decided to write it. It takes place in between the accident we see in _Memory Blank _and the events of _Mystery Meat. _Slight DxS.

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom or any of the characters. It's all property of Nick and Butch Hartman. --

My footsteps echo dimly as I walk into the tunnels, eyes wide in the gloom. The only light comes through the opening in my parent's lab, and that's not a lot- we didn't want to attract my parents, and Sam doesn't like using up extra energy.

A part of me wondered what the heck I am doing inside a portal to another dimension. Especially if said portal was made by my dad and supposed to lead to a world full of evil dead guys. _Peer pressure_, I answer back. _Don't you just love it?_

Still, I'm not that worried. The portal doesn't work. If it did I wouldn't be anywhere near it- I can still remember when Dad accidentally threw our house into another dimension. I do not feel any need to repeat the experience.

So I walk in, just to satisfy my friends (and my own,) slight curiosity. I go in farther than necessary, which turns out to be a big mistake.

I mentioned earlier that it was dark, right? So it was no surprise when my foot caught on one of the loose wires scattered across the floor.

I lost my balance and toppled to the side. I flailed my arms, and was able to catch myself on the wall, just in time to stop my head colliding painfully with the ground.

That's when I notice that I've pressed against something. I quickly lift my hand up, and stare in horror at what I see. It's a large green button labeled 'ON'.

As a quiet humming builds up accompanied by green lights I just have time to think; _this is not going to end well._

Pain shoots through me, an electric charge that shocks every molecule of my being. It felt like I was being sipped apart, sliced by invisible blades. I must have cried out, the pain was so intense, but I can't remember hearing anything but a rushing in my ears.

In my shock-numbed brain, one thought remained. _GET OUT OF HERE!_

Somehow I blindly stumbled through the piercing green light, not knowing where I was going.

After an eternity I fell through a veil. The pain lifted, and I found myself standing in a large room. As darkness ate away at my vision, I was just able to see the stunned faces of my friends.

Then I plunged into unconsciousness.

I was floating in an abyss. I felt extremely comfortable. There was nothing to think or worry about. How long had I been floating there, I did not know. I didn't care.

Then there was a humming of sorts. It interrupted the peaceful quiet like a blaring horn. I willed it to stop. It continued. While it did so, it became more distinct. Eventually, I was able to make sense of it.

"…is it?"

"Don't know. You don't think that maybe…?"

"We could ask."

I knew those sounds. They were the familiar voices of my friends.

_Shut up, _said that little part of me. I wanted to go back to that soothing darkness.

But the rest of me could help but notice the anxiety in their voice. Shouldn't I try to calm them?

So I let out a low groan, hoping to get their attention. The effect was instantaneous- the two voices stopped talking, soon replaced by hesitant footsteps.

After a few moments a voice said, "Danny? Is that you?" It was a light falsetto voice: Sam's.

I cracked my eye's open before answering, fully dragging myself out of unconsciousness. I was rewarded by the beautiful sight of Sam's boot. _Wonderful._

"Of course it's me? Who did you think it was- Mr. Lancer?" I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

I got a good look of Sam's face, and behind her, Tucker's. They both held a strange mix of emotions- relief, astonishment and….fear?

Suddenly I realized exactly why I had been lying on the floor of my parents' lab, uncurious. The accident. The terrible pain.

Of course they were afraid. I'd just been shocked by a giant portal to another dimension before collapsing on the ground. They must have thought I'd died.

I smiled to reassure them. "Hey, guys, don't worry. I feel fine. In fact, I feel great!" That was true. I felt as if I was supercharged with energy, like I was one sugar high.

Sam and Tuck didn't seem to believe me. They exchanged anxious expressions. "Dude," started Tucker hesitantly, "you don't look fine."

"What? Have I grown a third arm or something?" I tried to keep my tone light and joking, but I did feel a stab of fear. Being shocked in some weird portal-thingy powered by my parents 'ectoplasm' couldn't be healthy.

I craned by neck and inspected my body. Everything seemed normal- no extra limbs or weird marks. Perfectly fine.

At least, it seemed fine. It happened when I glanced at my hand. At first, I just couldn't put my finger on it- but something was different.

Then I realized that my glove was white. That was wrongly. I distinctly remembered that my jumpsuit (which my parents had insisted on buying) had black gloves.

I was also pretty sure that my gloves didn't glow.

My friends must have noticed my contemplation of my gloves, because Sam said; "You might wanna look in a mirror."

I was way ahead of her. I quickly walked to the mirror built into the wall above the lab's sink, vaguely registering that the tunnel I had walked into earlier was now filled with green mist.

I peered into the reflective glass, and gazing back at me…was a stranger.


	2. Chapter 2

A man sat typing at his computer, slight bags under his eyes due to the time (1:20 am)

A man sat typing at his computer, slight bags under his eyes due to the time (1:20 am).

Though the only light came from the computer monitor and a small desk lamp, one could easily see that the room was not an ordinary office of the working class. It was a large airy room, with an ornate fireplace at one end. The walls were lined with book shelves, filled to the brim with large volumes. There were several large armchairs, and the desk that the man sat at was carved of expensive wood. The entire room seemed to scream of money.

Money that did not seem to be allowing the man to go to sleep at a decent hour. Not that it could be helped- rich or not, work still had to be completed.

While the man tried to finish his work, sipping the last of his coffee, a figure glided into the room _through_ a large portrait hanging above the fire place. The floating figure was bulky, with hair made of flames. His metallic body gave off a faint glow- a glow that the man apparently noticed.

The man looked up at the creature, not with fear or surprise, but only with a small hint of annoyance. "Ah, Skulker," he said in a well polished voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you at this time of night? Besides hearing the tale of some new capture, I mean?" The man said it with only a touch of sarcasm.

The creature spoke, ignoring the man's comment about a new capture. "Forgive me, Plasmius, but I encountered something that may be of interest to you."

The man- Plasmius- raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"A new portal, sir, a permanent one. It was created in some lab under the name of 'Fenton Works'. I felt you might wish to know of it."

Interest flashed in the man's eyes. "Well, Skulker, it appears you were correct. This information may be of use to me." He surveyed the ghost, who was looking at him with an expression of anticipation. "You will find some new blasters down on the desk by the main computer in the lab, for your payment. You are dismissed."

Plasmius faced the computer again; the creature hesitated only a moment before flying back through the portrait to get his reward.

The man did not resume typing on his computer. He was lost deep in thought.

_So, it seems that the fool finally succeeded in creating a ghost portal. Amazing. Perhaps he is less of an idiot than I thought. _I slight sneer curled onto his face. _I will need to test him… _

"**BRING! BRING! BRING!**"

I groaned at the sound of the alarm clock, and tried to ignore it. Of course, its blaring ring continued to drill into my skull, so I stuck out my hand and tried to find the snooze button on the thing.

My hand searched everywhere, but couldn't even find the stupid clock. Annoyed, I sat up, forced to get ready for school.

"OUCH!" I muttered as my head collided painfully with something wooden. _What am I doing under my bed?!_

Now tired, annoyed, and confused, I pulled my self from under the bed. I was covered in dust and all that other stuff that you find under beds. Gross.

_How did I end up under there? I know I went to sleep on the top of my bed…I must have rolled off, and then rolled under._

As I contemplated this mystery, the alarm clock continued its obnoxious ringing. I turned around and pushed the button, a little harder than I needed to. It didn't look like I was going to get any extra sleep today.

So with no other choice, I started my morning routine. First, a quick shower (much needed to get all those dust bunnies off), followed by a quick towel off. Then, I went and threw on a pair of jeans and my favorite T-shirt.

Next, I packed my bag. Dumped in last night's history essay, followed by the copy of _Great Expectations _we were reading in English (my favorite subject). If I remembered correctly, all my other stuff was in my locker, so I was set to go.

So, I walked down the hall, bag in tow. Everything was going fine until I got to the stairs. Halfway down, I saw my foot sink through the floor. I cried out in surprise as my feet stopped, but my momentum kept the rest of my body going. In a few seconds I was tumbling down the stairs.

I landed in a heap at the foot of the stairs. Once I had detangled my self, I immediately looked at my right foot. Examining it, I was relived to find that there was nothing wrong with it. It was completely solid and unharmed.

No, it was the rest of my body that was harmed. My entire body was sore. _Great, now I'll have matching bruises all over my body. This just isn't my day…_

I got up, wincing slightly, and marched into the kitchen. The only one in there was my sister, her nose stuck in a book. She didn't even look up as she said, "I heard some noise out there. Are you okay?"

"Fine," I replied shortly. I surveyed the kitchen, looking for any signs of my parents. "Where are Mom and Dad?"

This time Jazz did look up. "Oh, still down in the lab." She rolled her turquoise eyes, showing her complete lack of interest.

Last night it didn't take long for my parent's to realize that the portal was working. They were ecstatic, and didn't leave the lab all night (Jazz had to make dinner). Mom was a bit suspicious to why it suddenly started working, but my Dad insisted that it had just been a delayed reaction. "After all," my Dad said, "Fenton inventions always work."

"You know, their portal might actually be working this time."

Jazz gave me a look of disbelief. "Oh, come on, do you actually believe that? A portal to the 'Ghost Zone'?" She highlighted her words with air quotes. "Besides, when have Mom and Dad's inventions ever worked?"

I searched through my memory. "The Fenton Anti-Creep Stick works great."

"That because it's just a baseball bat with the word Fenton on it."

She did have a point. I knew that none of my parent's inventions ever worked. But this was different. I knew for a fact that the portal was working- whether or not it led to a dimension full of dead spirits, was another matter.

The rest of breakfast passed by pretty quickly, without much conversation. Jazz was still reading once I had finished my cereal- being the owner of a new car, she was able to drive to school.

I picked up my school bag, and shouted o goodbye to my parents. Something indistinguishable was called back to me from the lab that was probably something along the lines of 'Have a nice day at school!'

Once leaving the house, I slowly trudged to school. I met Sam and Tucker, sitting on Tuck's doorstep, like always. "Hey guys."

The two stood up, ready to depart for school. "You okay, Danny? You seem to be a little off." Tucker had known me since kindergarten, and could always tell when I wasn't feeling well.

"He's right," agreed Sam. Suddenly her tone became lower. "Did anything else…weird happen?"

"No." All of yesterday Sam (and occasionally Tucker) had sent me surreptitious glances, checking to make sure I hadn't suddenly began glowing. "I just fell down the stairs. And hit my head." I didn't feel like going into all the strange details.

"Ouch. Does it hurt?"

"I'm Fine, just got a couple of bruises. Come on, let's get going. We don't want to be late."

We continued the journey with light chatter, (this consisted off teasing Tucker about his beret and something that was on TV last night) while I avoided any more mentions of the accident. I wasn't in the mood to talk about strange occurrences of the previous afternoon.

It was only about ten minutes until we arrived at every teenager's prison: High School.

Now, Casper High, was not, as my Dad thinks, named after _Casper the Friendly Ghost_. It was actually named after the city's supposed founder, Edward Casper. The city itself was apparently named after his late wife, Amity. My dad has heard this story, of course, but he believes that's just what the ghosts _want _us to think.

The three of us wound through the various cliques and social groups (making a wide arc around the football team). We had already been at the school for about two weeks, so the novelty of being freshmen had warn off.

The first few classes went as usual. In art, a paint fight broke out, which was amusing to watch under our desk sanctuary. At least it was until one of the popular girls (Valerie Grey, I think her name was) got pink paint on Sam's shirt. Tucker and I had to restrain her from killing them all. Overall, it was a miracle that we weren't all in detention.

History was boring, and I spent the class taking notes but not really understanding anything the teacher talked about. In science everybody got really annoyed at me because I kept dropping all the beakers. Forty minutes into the class I had already destroyed fifteen test tubes, three beakers and one thermometer (I hadn't even known you could break those). I have been banned from handling fragile object of school property for the rest of the year.

Things didn't really heat up until after lunch. Sam was complaining about the lack of anything edible in the cafeteria while Tucker raved about the schools Sloppy Joes. We had stopped by my locker to get stuff for English.

As I dug around for my books, I suddenly felt a sharp tug on the back of my shirt. "Hey Fent- turd!"

I gulped uneasily. "He-hey Dash. How are you?"

Dash was in the grade above me. He was big and bulky, with sandy blonde hair. He was the school's Alfa- the football team's quarter-back, and head of the A-list. Despite his size, he had a pretty nasally voice, but nobody ever mentions it. The last kid who did got stuck in a garbage can for two hours.

"I'm doing pretty good, Fenton. It just seems that you hadn't been given you daily beating yet."

I didn't even bother trying to get out of it. Sam and Tucker watched, unable to do anything while Dash was accompanied by the half the football team. I was hoisted up by my shirt and Dash rammed me into my own locker. I barley fit, but he got my whole body in somehow.

He laughed in my face for a few moments before slamming the door, which locked instantly. I could hear muffled applause and laughter through the doors as the group drifted away.

As I sat in there, I felt I flare I anger. I hated Dash! Ever since the first day, when I had accidentally bumped into him, I had been shoved into lockers and had my head dumped into toilets. I hated him!

The door squeaked open, and Tuckers face came into view. He tugged on my leg, and I came tumbling out of the locker. After I had rearranged myself, Sam stuck out a hand to help me up. For a few moments, we were face to face, my eyes looking into her violet ones.

She jumped back slightly. "Danny! Your eyes are glowing!"

I blinked in surprise. "What!" The fear that has evaporated with Tucker's explanation came crashing back. "They can't be!"

"Well, they aren't anymore…But they were glowing, and bright green!"

I shook my head franticly. "No, you probably just saw them wrong. Maybe it was just the light reflected off of them."

Sam crossed her arms and gave me a piercing gaze. With her dark clothes and makeup, she looked quite fearsome. "The school lights are not green. Besides, ask Tucker. He saw your eyes to!"

She turned on him, and he looked as if he'd preferred if he hadn't been involved. "Well, I didn't really get that good a look at his eyes…."

"Did you see them glowing or not?"

"Well, they did seem bright…Yeah. I guess so." I wanted to groan out loud.

Sam looked at me triumphantly. "Ha! You see, I knew you should go to see your parents."

I picked up my bag, which was still on the floor from when I was getting my books. Then I started walking down the hall, the other two following me. "That doesn't prove anything. You _think_ you saw my eyes glowing- big deal. I'll go to my parents if something…weirder happens."

Sam began rattling on about how I should tell my parents, and soon Tucker joined in (_traitor)_. I tried my best not to listen to them. They didn't understand my fear. They just thought it was a weird side effect of radioactive goo.

But what if it wasn't? I had been raised in a family that hunts ghosts. I might have not believed in the creatures for years, but even I couldn't deny the facts- a wispy tail, floating, and the bright, green eyes- all occurring after I had been shocked in a portal that was supposed to lead to a 'Ghost Zone'.

_Don't think like that, _my more optimist part of me scolded. _Sam was just imagining things. Tucker's probably right. You're not dead. _

"…could give you real health problems." I toned in for the last of Sam's rant. She was about to continue on, when the bell let out a loud shrill, signaling the beginning of class. Even if it was cliché, I couldn't help but think _saved by the bell. _


	3. Chapter 3

In the late afternoon sunshine the three of us stood, hidden behind a dumpster filled with rotting garbage

Sam tried to continue convincing me to go to my parents' throughout English, but this failed. We were taking turns reading out _Great Expectations _so it was impossible to talk. She also tried to pass me notes, but Mr. Lancer, our teacher, is not only strict but also has eyes like a hawk. Thankfully, he didn't actually read the not she was sending me via Tucker, since he might have found the incriminating evidence a bit suspicious.

Of course, my brief reprieve only lasted until the bell. We were barley out of the classroom before she started up again.

_Why do I have to pick friends who are so darn stubborn?_

"Sam, can we please not talk about this?"

Sam defiantly wanted to argue, but Tucker intervened. "If he doesn't want to tell his parents, he doesn't have to. Would you want to tell yours?"

She glared at him, but knew she was defeated. "Fine," she said to me. "But if it turns out you have radiation poisoning, don't come crying to me." Her pace speed up, and me and Tucker had to jog to keep up.

By the time we were outside she had slowed down again. None of us spoke. I tried not to think about all the odd occurrences, and my fears about them. Instead, I focused on the wonderful assignment I needed to do for English, which distracted me fairly well.

"So, do you guys want to go to the mall, or something?"

Sam ignored Tucker, still fuming. I just shrugged and said, "Sure."

The mall was not the place we usually hanged out. We don't really have enough money to pay for most of the things there (Tucker and me mostly. Sam always has enough- I think she gets a really big allowance). Plus, we prefer Nasty Burger, the resident fast food place, or just hanged out at my place.

But it would be a nice change of scene. We could get something to eat at the food court, and go stare longingly at video games we would never be able to buy since they're to expensive and no parent in their right mind would give it to their kid.

It wasn't long until Tucker started talking to fill the silence. I tried to listen, I really did, but you can only listen to someone go on about their new PDA so many times. And I had been hearing about it for a month.

So I just nod and grunt at the appropriate moment while I look around. It's a nice day, with that warm, golden sunshine you only get in autumn. On the trees some of the leaves are beginning to change color, going from green to rich reds and yellows.

I can tell Sam enjoys it too. While she blocks out Tucker's detailed description of his PDA's GPS capabilities, she smiles faintly as the afternoon sun warms her cheeks. I often think that for a Goth, she is amazingly cheerful. Even when she's supposed to be mad at me, she can't help but be cheered up by nature.

Walking down that peaceful street, I can't help but feel peaceful. The thought of yesterday's accident and all of its possible effects is wiped completely from my mind.

At least, I do until we're about a block away from the mall. Suddenly I shiver violently, feeling as if I've just been dunked in ice cold water. I'm also fairly sure that I see my breath hanging in the air, like you do in the winter, but the sunlight's so strong that I can't be sure.

Tucker pauses, sensing my sudden change. He looks at me quizzically. "Are you cold?"

"A bit," I admit. It's a bit of an understatement. Or at least it was, since I feel perfectly warm now.

Sam, apparently forgetting that she's not talking to me, looks surprised. "What? It's only the begging of October. It's not cold yet."

She's right. It might be getting a bit chilly out but nothing cold enough to make me shiver so badly. "Maybe I'm just coming down with a cold."

"Yeah, probably. Some kids were sick today…" Tucker fades off, distracted. His green eyes are focused on a trash can a few feet away. "Hey, what's that?"

At first I don't see anything- it's just a garbage can with and black plastic bag in it. Then I notice something move- a little green ball of fluff.

I step towards the can, and the little ball of fluff disappears behind it. A few seconds later, a little speck of green appears at the other side.

It grows into a nose…a head… and entire body. It's a rabbit.

But not just a rabbit. This is unlike any rabbit I've seen before. Its fur is unnatural emerald color, and it had these beady red eyes.

When I was nine, I got this goldfish that I named Goldie (I wasn't very creative back then). I really like him and showed him off to my friends. But about three weeks after I got him, I found him missing from the bowl. I was really sad, and when I started crying my Dad came up and told me he had my fish, and that he'd been experimenting on him. Goldie looked just like this rabbit.

"I can't believe it!" said Sam, rushing forward. "I just knew all the pollution would be affecting the wildlife- I just knew it! I swear, I'm going to run a law suit against Axion Labs!"

She bent down and started motioning for the rabbit to come forward. "Er, Sam? Are you sure that's safe?"

"Oh, it's fine. Just because he's sick doesn't mean he's dangerous."

Tucker looked skeptical. "I don't know- that thing might have this rare new virus or something."

She totally ignored us and slowly inched toward the rabbit, stretching out her arm. Soon her hand was poised above it's long, floppy ears, ready to stroke it.

I can't say exactly how it happened. The rabbit's eyes narrowed, and I suddenly became aware that they were glowing. A low sound started rumbling from its direction, and I soon realized that it was a growl. _From a rabbit?_

Sam quickly jumped back which was a good thing, because the rabbit suddenly lashed out, trying to bite her hand. It had these long white fangs that looked like they could seriously hurt you.

When it missed Sam's hand, it growled again, and jumped.

Now, we all know that rabbits hop. That's what they're known for- giving out eggs, eating carrots and hopping. But this was different- it jumped strait up in the air, and didn't come back down. It gave us an evil glare, before hopping away. When I say hopping, I'm describing the movement. It was actually flying.

My two friends watched it as it flew over a fence, completely bewildered. I just groaned. "Looks like my Dad has been experimenting again."

Sam stared at me, and the phrase _If looks could kill, _entered my head. "Your Dad experiments on animals?"

I rubbed my neck nervously. "Sometimes. The rest of my family don't like it but…he sometimes can't contain himself." I could have sworn her eyes were spitting flames. "Hey, I'll talk to him, OK?"

She seemed to clam down. "Okay. But he should probably know that anything that makes a rabbit do that can't be healthy."

I was about to agree with her, but Tucker interrupted. "Not that this isn't interesting, and everything, but can we please get going? I'm going to miss my three forty feeding!"

"There's a table!" The three of us quickly steered ourselves to the center of the food court, claiming the table. On the trays in front of us stood one medium meat lover's pizza for Tuck and me, and one small veggie pizza with soy cheese for Sam.

We started to break off pieces, talking idly. I kept pulling off little strings of cheese and sucking them up, before quickly devouring the rest.

Halfway through my second piece, I got elbowed in the ribs. "What?" I asked Tucker.

"Dude, look over there." He pointed behind my back, smiling.

I turned around; trying to see what was so great that I deserved to be elbowed to find out about.

It was a group of about four girls. But these weren't just any girls- they were the most popular and elite ones in Casper High, and possibly the entire city. They were all wearing the latest fashion, and beautiful hair cuts. With their curving bodies and expensive purses, there wasn't a guy in the mall who didn't wish he was dating one of them.

Of course, I only searched out one person in the group. She had wonderful, completely flawless dark skin, and flowing black hair. She was dressed in a short pink mini-skirt and a shirt that was just a bit too revealing, if you know what I mean. She was too far away to hear, but I knew she spoke in a slightly Spanish accented voice.

I could almost feel my hormones kick into overdrive.

"Paulina," I sighed.

"Oh, Paulina," scoffed Sam. "Not her again! I just don't know what you see in her- she's just a carbon copy of about a million other girls in the world."

Tucker and I completely ignored her; a practiced skill we'd learned to use whenever talking about girls. "You should go talk to her."

"No way." I shook my head. "I'd completely embarrass myself. She doesn't even know I exist."

"Oh, come on. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Public humiliation, getting beaten up by her boyfriend, and killing what little social status I already have as a labeled loser and freak."

Tucker smiled at me encouragingly. "Even if she doesn't like you, it's not that bad. Trust me."

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I suppose you know best. After all, you've already been turned down by every girl in the school."

Despite the dark color of his skin, Tucker's face turned red. Sam let out a dark laugh.

Still Tucker wouldn't be deterred. "Come on, just go for it."

I hesitated in answering, my gaze on the group of girls who were leaving the counter of the Smoothie Shack. "Do you really think that she'll talk to me."

"Completely," assured Tucker.

"If this wasn't a shallow little unintelligent demon we were talking about, I'd agree."

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Here goes nothing."

The walk through the many rows of seats felt like the longest walk of my life. My stomach was doing a series of summersaults, while the cynical side of my brain kept screaming at me to get back to the safe zone of Sam and Tucker.

But eventually I was there, standing in front of one of the many tables, presenting myself to the most popular girls in the school. They were all laughing and giggling and swapping stories about make-up and guys.

It was several moments until anyone noticed me. The one who did was a girl I had known at my previous school, a pretty blonde haired girl who'd been in my class. If she remembered me, she certainly didn't show it.

"Er, Hello." She said in a tone of voice that clearly said, _what are you doing here?_

"Hey, Starr. Just wanted to come say hi to you guys." The other three girls all looked at her in mystification.

"Oh…right. Well, these are my friends, Paulina, Valerie and Natasha. This is Danny Felton."

"Fenton," I corrected. They all just stared at me. I felt like a complete idiot.

There was an awkward for a few moments. "So, what are you guys doing at the mall?"

"Just shopping," answered Natasha, a girl with hazel-brown hair and green eyes that was incredibly thin. I noticed that she didn't have anything to eat or drink in front of her.

"Oh."

_Compliment her, you idiot!_

"Uh, that's a nice shirt, Paulina. It goes really well with your hair."

Her eyes lit up instantly. "I know, isn't it? This shade of pink is just so _in_ right now and I just had to have it. I bribed my Daddy for days."

Valerie, an African American girl looked at her sympathetically. "Really? My Dad just let me get it- he lets me have whatever I want."

A conversation about the latest fashion broke out. By they didn't shun me. They even occasionally let me comment. The conversation was boring (Sam would call it superficial) but I didn't care. They had accepted me. Tucker was right!

Eventually I even worked up enough courage to move closer to Paulina. I turned to my side, took a step forward and WHAM!

The collision went quickly. The guy I had slammed into apologized, but the damage was done. He may have lost his nachos, but I was the person wearing them all over my shirt.

I didn't even look at them. I could hear the harsh laughter.

_I just had to collide with a guy carrying nachos, didn't I?_ I just wanted to disappear.

If I didn't want to flee in embarrassment before, what I saw when I looked down in mortification defiantly did. Or, what I didn't see.

My arm was gone.

I completely forgot everything around me. Even the humiliation I'd just suffered in front of my crush was pushed to the back of my head.

I knew I had to get out of there, quickly. It wouldn't be long until someone noticed that I didn't have an arm.

Hardly realizing what I was doing, I half ran to the first place that I could think of- The men's bathroom.

The long room was empty, and silent except for the quiet background music. I strode down the past the many mirrors, refusing to look at my reflection. Eventually I pushed open one of the stalls, quickly flipping the latch.

I sat down on the toilet seat, the clover giving slightly under my weight. I took a deep breath and stared down at where my arm should be.

It was an extremely odd feeling. I could see the sleeve of my T-shirt being held up my arm, but I couldn't see the arm, itself. I also knew where it was. I could tell that it was draped across my legs. And when I moved my fingers I could tell that I was moving them into distinct shapes- a piece sign, a thumbs up.

It also felt perfectly normal. Maybe a bit cool, but if I closed my eyes, I cold pretend that nothing was wrong.

My head feel back, barley leaning against the wall. I let both my arms drop and felt the cold porcelain against them.

I was now certain that Tucker had been wrong. It hadn't just been radioactivity. There was something more than that.

_Funny, how this time yesterday I was so certain everything would be fine._

Actually, I wasn't so sure of that. Maybe I always knew, deep inside. Sure, I tried to convince myself other wise, but I had failed. It was no wonder. Looking back with my knew knowledge, everything that had happened over the past day made more sense. I knew why I had woken up _under _the bed, and why I kept dropping stuff in science.

I felt despair rush over me. If I was right- and I knew that I was- then my life might as well be over. If my parents found out they'd wither dissect me and study my remains, or kick me out of the house. I would be ridiculed and labeled as a freak. Everyone would hate me.

_This isn't getting you anywhere. Try getting your hand back to normal. They you can use all the angst that you want._

I snapped opened my eyes and tried to focus. My hand was invisible. I needed to get it visible again.

I started running through my head ways that I could possibly do this when I heard the door swing open, accompanied by footsteps. "Danny?"

I didn't respond immediately. "Look, it's not that bad. Everyone will forget eventually. Besides, more embarrassing things could happen.

_What is he talking about? _Suddenly I remembered the entire nacho incident.

"Yeah."

I heard him pause in front of the door. "Come on hiding in here isn't going to do any good. In fact, Sam's threatening to come in here herself, so you might want to move before she gets kicked out of the mall."

I small smile flitted across my face. I knew Sam would do it.

"I'm not worried about Paulina." It came out. I didn't consciously choose to.

Tucker sounded really confused. "You're not? Then why are you hiding in the washroom?"

Hesitation made me pause. Would he think I was crazy? Or would he think of me as a freak?

_No, _said my inner voice. _Tucker's known you since you were three. You've shared everything- including your secrets. He wouldn't just abandon you. _

Besides, it wasn't like I had a choice now. He would never let it drop.

I un-locked the bathroom stall and pushed the door open. Tucker was standing in front of me looking concerned. "My arm's turned invisible."

Tucker's eyes were wide behind his glasses. "Wow." He looked at me, probably surveying how weird I looked without an arm. "I guess my theory was wrong then." He only looked mildly disappointed.

"Wait. You're not freaking out?"

"Of course not. I mean, this is way more manageable then yesterday."

Okay, he was right there, but still, my arm was invisible! I was completely freaking out. "Can I touch it?" he asked earnestly.

I shrugged. "Don't see why not. It's around here." I stuck out my arm and pointed to it's general direction with my other one.

Tucker tentatively stuck out his arm towards mine, and started feeling around in the air like he was blind. Finally, his chocolate-brown arm stopped in mid air, his fingers brushing against my skin. He slowly moved down the arm, and when he reached my hand, began prodding the contours of my fingers with his own. It was a very strange sensation, and I could help but feel a bit uneasy.

Tucker felt the same way. "This is so freaky," he breathed. I nodded.

There were a few moments of silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

"Are you two coming out, or what?" Sam's voice interrupted the stillness, sounding very forceful.

I looked at Tucker franticly. "What should I do?"

Tucker looked at me like I was nuts. "Tell her of course!"

"Guys!" she called again.

I know it was stupid, but I really was afraid of telling Sam. I hadn't known her for as long as Tucker, and I didn't want to lose one of the only friends I had.

The door flew open, framing Sam. Her arms were crossed. "Oh, come on! I'm bored out of mind, waiting!" She saw my worried face. "Look, I'm sorry you blew it in front of Paulina, but really, there are better girls out there for you…"

When I didn't interrupt she trailed off, her eyes narrowing. I'm not sure what alerted her- maybe it was the way that I shielded the left side of my body. "What are you hiding?"

The annoying thing about Sam is she's very observant.

Of course, just because she's observant doesn't mean I have to give into her. "Nothing!"

She rolled her eyes and took a step foreword. "Oh, please. I can tell your lying." She came farther into the washroom. I adjusted my position to keep my non-existent arm hidden.

They say the best form of defense is offence, so I gave it a try. "You can't come in here! This is a _guy's_ washroom!"

"Yeah, and you're the only two guys in here, so no problem."

Tucker, who had been staying out of the conversation until then, joined, hopefully to back me up.

"Danny's right- if someone catches you, we could all be thrown out of the mall. At least hide in one of the stalls."

As I glared evilly at Tucker, Sam obliged. The blue plastic door hid her from anyone walking into the washroom, but she was still in plain few of the two of us.

"There," she said with exaggerated patience. "Now will you tell me what going on. It's defiantly more then humiliating yourself in front of that she-witch."

It seriously looked as if I had no choice but to tell her. I was well aware that doing so would probably begin an hour's worth of lectures. I also knew that I would probably ignore these lectures until Sam forced me to tell my parents.

_My life is unbelievingly predictable. _

Still, I didn't want it to go this way. I knew something that Sam and Tucker didn't. Something that they wouldn't understand.

Deciding that I would have to deal with all that later, I opened my mouth to speak, but Tucker had already beaten me to it.

"It's his arm! Show her Danny!"

I held it out, still feeling a strange shiver as I looked at it. Not seeing my arm connected with my shoulders seemed so…unnatural.

I tore my eyes from the eerie sight; I focused my self on Sam's reactions. At first her face seemed fairly clam, her violet eyes staring intently at the space where my arm should be. (Well, it was actually a little bit to the right of where my arm actually was, but how could she know that?) Worry flashed briefly on her face, before mixing with an expression of triumph.

"I knew Tucker wasn't right."

"Oh, come on! I admit I made a mistake, but I didn't see you coming up with any ideas."

The two started bickering- a scene I had become very accustomed to over the past years. But I was still surprised. Here I was, with an invisible arm, and they were fighting over a scientific hypothesis.

I interrupted their_ fight_ (which had somehow moved onto the health effects of computers). "Guys! I still can't see my arm!"

The tow looked at me, slightly surprised, as if they had forgotten I was even there. "Oh, right. I guess we need to deal with that."

I resisted the urge to say, _Duh! _Worry over my arm was still biting at me.

_Will I have to go around the rest of my life as a one armed freak? _

Sam was staring at me critically. "Obviously this is an effect of what happened yesterday."

"I think we had all realized that," Tucker told her sharply, still stung by her criticism of his theory. "But that's not going to get us any closer to helping him."

"I was getting to that." She paused. When neither of us interrupted her, she continued. "Now, yesterday you were having some pretty weird side effects, similar to this one."

She paused, her brow furrowing while she thought. I wish she would just get on with it.

After what seemed like a long time she continued. "But yesterday you went back to normal. We don't know why, but you did. So all we have to do-"

"Is do what ever it was, again," finished Tucker.

That made lots of sense. Simply do what I did yesterday and I should, theoretically, go back to normal.

"Just one problem. I don't know what I did."

Tucker bit his lip and Sam leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall. "Yeah. That is a problem."

Tucker shook his head. "Not really. All we have to do is think about what happened yesterday. You know, retrace our steps. Eventually we'll find something that'll work."

I caught a movement out of the side of my eye. It was the bathroom door, opening up. I positioned myself against the wall, shielding my arm from view.

Tucker had noticed it to. 'Close the door,' he mouthed to Sam, who quickly shut it, hiding herself from view just as the man walked past. He gave us a questioning glance, probably wondering what we were doing, before going to one of the wall units to relive himself.

We stood in silence until he had left. Once Sam was sure that he was gone, she peeked out of the cubicle.

"We need somewhere more private."

"We're in a mall, Sam. I can't think of anywhere more private than a washroom."

Five minutes later the three of us could be found hiding behind the rubbish bins in the parking lot. Sam had been right- there was nobody else here. Sniffing, I could tell why.

Of course, it sure beat being found in the public men's room, talking to a girl, with an invisible arm.

I had made it there without notice by walking as quickly as possible, Sam and Tucker on either side of me, blocking my arm from sight. We had almost lost Tucker when we passed the electronics store, but we somehow managed to keep him in check.

And our reward for that was sitting behind a dumpster.

"Okay," said Sam. "Back to business. What were you doing before you changed back to normal."

I thought back to yesterday. It already seemed pretty hazy- just a jumble of confusion and stress. "Nothing…I was just hanging in the air, freaking out. Suddenly there was that strange light, and I was sitting on the ground, normal."

Tucker looked thoughtful. "Maybe it wasn't you."

"What do you mean?" asked Sam.

"Well, Danny's parents are ghost hunter's right?" I nodded. "And that green stuff they use is ectoplasm, what ghosts are supposedly made of." Once again I nodded. "So, all their weapons should work against it. So maybe it affected you, since you got shocked by the stuff."

I thought it over, before shaking my head. "Nah, I don't think that's it. My parent's inventions have never worked before. Besides, I was surrounded by their inventions. If that was it, I would have become normal immediately."

Sam sighed. "Danny's right. We'll try it if nothing else works, though."

We were all silent, replaying yesterdays' events in our head. I thought about what I had done.

I had floated in the air. I had freaked out and screamed a bit. Then I had wished I was back to normal, and then I had landed on the ground.

_Wished I was normal?_

It was crazy, I knew it. Thoughts couldn't physically affect you. But something made me wonder…

"Guys," I started slowly. "I think I might know."

I quickly explained my idea. Tucker didn't believe it. He said it was unscientific.

"But," Sam reasoned, "Nothing else is making any sense. It won't do any harm to try."

So I stared at where I knew my arm was, imagining it. Light, pale skin. Five fingers. A small scab on my elbow where I had fallen last week. I painted a vivid picture of it in my head.

And then it really was there.

Relief swept through me. It felt so good to see my arm there, nice and solid and _real_. I flexed my fingers, watching them move.

My friends watched me for a brief period, a relived smile slowly unfurling on my face. "Yes," I half whispered.

Tucker congratulated me. "I knew you could do it!"

"You did?" asked Sam.

"Well, not completely," he admitted. "But I'm his friend. It's my job to say that."

I rolled my eyes, smiling at their playful banter.

It wasn't long until they focused their attention back on me. "So," Sam began, in mock casualness. "You've got your arm back to normal- which is good. However, I think we've proven once and for all that you defiantly have some side effects."

I sat very still, avoiding my friend's eyes. I knew what was coming, and the knowledge of it washed away the sense of calm that had just returned.

"Are you going to tell your parents now?"

Sam spoke with complete authority. It was the same voice she used when ever she complained about animal cruelty, and held a lot of strength in it. It was actually quite amazing to here it coming from a fourteen year old girl…even if said girl was dressed in black and wore combat boots.

Despite the weight in her voice, and forced my self to say, "No."

Both of them stared at me, mirror expressions of shock on their faces. "What? Why not?" asked Tucker, just as surprised as Sam. "You can't be going around with side effects like this!"

"I know." Melancholy weighed down my voice.

"Then why won't you tell them? They are scientists in this field, you know."

I looked at Sam, who had just jumped back into the conversation. "Because…" I paused, trying to find a way to properly phrase what I wanted to say. "Look, I know this is going to sound completely insane, but…I think I'm a ghost."


	4. Chapter 4

In the late afternoon sunshine the three of us stood, hidden behind a dumpster filled with rotting garbage

Once again, thanks to all the reviews I've gotten from nayohmie.gurl.101, Wishes for Wings, Dannyphantomfreeek, dpphan333, TPcrazy and Ali Phantom.

It was looking as the late afternoon sunshine beamed down on the three of us, huddled behind a dumpster filled with garbage that we could no longer smell. A Goth and techno-geek stared at me, their scrawny, unremarkable friend, as if I had just declared .

The seconds seemed to lapse into an eternity as they struggled to find anything to say. My heart beat wildly as the suspense heightened every moment. I was afraid to see how they would react.

The way I saw it, there were three possible outcomes.

One; They would believe me and say it didn't matter, and we'd all go home friends, laughing jovially, where I'd tell my parents, who'd accept me. We would all then find a cure for cancer, I'd meet the girl of my dreams and live happily ever after… you get the idea.

Two; they'd believe me and all run home screaming in fear. I'd be shunned by my parents and society, and hunted down like a wild animal.

Or, three; they'd all think I'm nuts. Really, really nuts.

While all these thoughts ran through my head, Tucker had finally come up with a response.

"Er, dude, I pretty sure that's impossible." He was fiddling with his PDA like he usually does when he's tense.

"I've got to agree with Tucker. As cool as it would be for you to be a ghost I'm pretty sure you'd have to be dead."

"Let's not forget the little fact that ghosts don't exist," added Tucker.

if they were heading towards option three- Thinking that I was a total crackpot. That left me with two choices; I could either drop it and deal with the what ever was happening on my own, or continue trying to convince them and deal with the consequences.

I weighed the pros and cons of each option. I didn't want to lose my friends, which was indeed possible if I continued with the latter. But the first ones had its problems two- Sam would probably force me into telling my parents, and if I was right, that wouldn't end well. Even if that didn't happen, I didn't want to figure this all out on my own.

Besides, I owed it to Sam and Tucker to be truthful with them. Tucker and me and been best friends for ever, and even if I hadn't known Sam for as long him, she was the only other real friend I had.

I made up my mind.

"I know, I know...it makes no sense. It's just; I've been raised by a family of ghost hunters. My Dad's idea of a fun family outing is staking out haunted houses. I've been taught how to recognize ghosts and everything I've seen fits with the description. The glowing eyes, the flying, invisibility….It's the only conclusion I can come up with."

"But you haven't even believed in ghosts since you were, like, eight!" Tucker burst out.

It was true. When I was little, I'd thought my parent's were the coolest; In first grade when everybody talked about what they're parents did, all the kids said, _My Dad's an accountant, _or _my Mom works at a restaurant, _but I was able to boast _My parents hunt ghosts! _All the kids always wanted to come over to my house, and I liked to show off my Dad's inventions at Show and Tell.

But then I started growing up. Instead of thinking I was cool people, kids started thinking I was a freak. Parents didn't like their children coming over to the family who had a giant metal disk on the roof or a lab in the basement. Influenced by Jazz, my belief in ghosts faded away with that of Santa and the Easter Bunny.

I sighed, suddenly feeling very tired, worn out by the day's events. "Yeah, I know. But I need to look at the facts- what was it that our science teachers always say? 'Change your 'hypothesis to fit the facts?'"

"That's only when your hypothesis works within the laws of science!"

Sam walked over to me, ignoring Tucker's comment. "Look, Danny, I'm not saying we don't believe you…"

I stared at her in disbelief and she blushed faintly. "Okay, I am. But the fact is this to be a ghost you have to be dead, and," she grabbed my arm, and flipped if over to my palm faced upward. She felt around with her thumbs until we I felt a steady pulsing- the constant rhythm of my heart. "You have a pulse. So you can't be dead and therefore not a ghost."

"Look!" I nearly yelled, starling both my friends. Sam quickly took a step back and stood besides Tucker. "I don't know, okay? It's just a guess! None of your bright ideas have made any sense, so don't you criticize me!" Tucker winced slightly and I couldn't help but feel sorry. But I didn't stop.

"But if I'm right- and I'm sure I am, "I said, seeing their disbelieving faces, "Then telling my parents would not be a good. So I'm not telling them."

I waited for them to say something, but they seemed to be stuck in a stunned silence.

When they didn't have anything to stay, I turned my back on them and walked out from behind the dumpster, breathing in the clean air. But I didn't stop to enjoy it, but continued to storm off, starting on the route home.

I was expecting them to call out to me and call me back. I half wanted them too. But they didn't, which was probably a good thing; I was still filled with unreasonable rage- at Sam; for getting me into this mess, at myself; for doing something so stupid, and for my Dad's idiotic machine.

Forging back home, I was faintly aware that it was getting dark. A truck rushed past, and a cat screeched in one of the alleyways. I hardly noticed any of it, my feet leading me while my mind raged elsewhere.

_I'm a freak, _I thought, anger and fear pulsing through my veins. Pictures flashed through my head- people mocking me, being kicked out of the house, and secret government facilities. Everyone would want to experiment me. My own parents would think I was evil.

_Evil…_

I horrific thought occurred to me. Ghosts were meant to be evil. If I was one, didn't that make me evil too?

I shivered at the thought. _I'm not evil. I may be a freak, but I'll never turn evil. _

After what only seemed a short time my home appeared. The bright neon sign that hung from the roof shone like a beacon. Perched on top of the red brick house was a large metallic dome that greatly resembled a flying saucer. We had received many complaints from neighbors about it, but I knew it wasn't coming down any time soon.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The ensemble may have looked slightly eccentric, like something out of a science fiction movie, but it was home.

I climbed up the front steps and pulled my keys out of my pocket, which jangled brightly as a slotted it into the lock.

I stepped into the front hall, which felt very welcoming. White-washed wall, with a blue carpet and decked with family photos, the room felt very reassuring. This was my home, and in its comforting presence I couldn't help but relax slightly.

As I approached the stairs my mom stuck her head of the kitchen, her auburn hair framing her face. "Jazz, is that you?"

Surprise flickered across her face when she saw me, but her kind smile didn't disappear. "Oh, Danny! You're home early."

I hadn't actually noticed the time. Since it was twilight outdoor, I'd assumed it had been getting late. I'd forgotten that since it was fall, the days were getting shorter.

"Yeah, I guess so."

My mom seemed slightly confused at my complete lack of enthusiasm, but she just shrugged it off, probably figuring that it was teenager stuff. "Dinner won't be ready for a while- we're having spaghetti."

"'Kay," I told her, starting up the steps. "I'll just be in my room."

I walked into my room, the door silently swinging closed. I stood there for a few moments, unsure of what to do. I did not want to continue contemplating my situation. My anger was already dissipating, and I didn't want it to return.

I needed something to do, something to keep me busy. I went and sat on the chair by my desk, switching on the computer. I contemplated beginning my English homework, until I realized with a jolt, that I didn't have my school bag with me.

_Tucker must have it, _I thought, mentally kicking myself.

So I sat there, trying to recall if there was any work I could do with out the aid of textbooks or worksheets.

While I scanned my memory, my computer finished loading. Not long after being turned on, I box appeared on the screen.

_Danny F. has logged in, _it stated proudly, presenting a picture of me besides it. It was my IM account and user name. I know it isn't very original, and I do want to change it to something more interesting, but I can't think of any cool user names.

I barley noticed this, however, since I had just remembered there was some research I needed to do for science. It wasn't due in until next Monday, but I didn't have anything else to do.

I navigated the mouse across the screen, clicking on the Internet Explorer Icon. Just as I was about to change to Google, my computer emitted a little ping, accompanied by a little box.

_Friar Tuck has logged in. _I closed the box, ignoring it. I didn't want to Tucker right then. Instead, I turned my attention back to my school work, typing the research topic into the search bar.

Barley a minute later this message popped up:

_Friar Tuck says; Danny, you there?_

When I didn't reply, he sent me another one.

_Look, Danny, I'm sorry. So is Sam. R U OK?_

I continued disregard the messages, but Tucker kept sending them, threatening to begin a conversation with himself. After about five, I turned the computer off.

What could I do? There wasn't much. I went downstairs and watched something on TV, but all that was on were those mindless shows that kill your brain cells. Usually I don't mind them, but tonight I couldn't stand them.

So, with nothing else to do, I walked into the kitchen, plunking myself down at the table.

My Mom looked up from the saucepan of soup she was stirring. "Hey. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes, alright sweetie?"

I nodded mutely, turning my attention to the TV on the other counter. We had got it three years ago, because m Dad wanted to be able to respond to a ghost attack at the earliest possible moment. Of course, no ghost attack had ever happened, but we still used the TV. It was currently switched to the news channel.

With nothing else to do, I lazily watched visions of the Iraq war pass in front of my eyes, with out any accompanying sound. When Mom was cooking alone, she didn't like having the volume up- she said it distracted her.

The time passed slowly. Mom cooked in relative silence. I could here faint clanks and clunks coming from the lab.

After a few minutes, the sound of a phone ringing broke the calm.

It was closer to my Mom, so she pulled herself away from cooking, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

There was some indistinguishable murmuring coming from the other end before my Mom responded. "Oh, hello Sam."

My eyes widened, and I made a cutting motion across my neck. She seemed to get the message. "…No, he's busy right now. Sorry." Another pause as Sam spoke. "Alright Sam. Bye."

She quickly hung up the phone, and gave me a strange look. "What was that about? Sam seemed worried."

I shrugged, _really _not wanting to go into details. "Nothing. I just don't want to talk her."

Motherly concern lit up her face, and she came over, enveloping me in a hug that completely killed all my teenager indifference. "Oh, sweetie! Did you have a fight?"

"Sort 'a." Mom pulled away, surveying my face. "I don't really want to talk about it. And don't tell Jazz," I added as an afterthought. My sister was going through a psychology phase, and if she found out, I would be spending the rest of the night explaining my _feelings _with her.

"Okay, honey," said my Mom, flashing me one last worried look before turning back to the sauce.

Changing the subject she said, "Dinner's just about ready. Could you please call your sister and father?"

"Jazz is home?"

"Oh, yeah. She came back while you were in your room." She said while she rummaged around for a serving bowl in the cupboard. "Now could you please get them?"

"Sure." I stuck my head out of the doorway. "JAZZ! Get down here. Dinner's ready!"

"Coming!" came the distant reply from the second floor.

My mom regarded me coldly. "I could have done that. Please get your father personally."

"Fine," I grumbled, as I walked down the hall to the door that led to the lab.

I opened the door and peered down. I suddenly felt a shiver of fear. I didn't want to go down there, not after what happened last time.

I peeked over my shoulder back at the kitchen, wondering how much trouble I would get into for just calling Dad like I had for Jazz. It didn't look good. So with no other choice, I ventured into the dark bowels of the Fenton laboratory.

The lab looked much the same as it had yesterday- my jumpsuit was still on the floor, even. Just now everything had a green tinge to it, as the ghost portal emitted a spooky light. Also, to my right, my Dad's giant orange mass was craned over a work bench, fiddling with equipment that looked far too delicate for his massive hands.

I nervously stood at the bottom of the stairs. Sensing my presence, my Dad looked up.

"Danny boy! Good to see you." A giant grin was plastered over his face. "Guess what I saw today!"

"Uh….a car?" _How am I supposed to know?_

"Well, yes," my dad agreed grudgingly. "But I saw something much cooler than that. A ghost!"

"Really?" I asked, amazed. Even though my parents (and my Dad's whole family, going back four generations) are ghost hunters, they had never actually caught a ghost. Or even seen one, as far as I knew.

"Yep, a ghost rabbit. A real beauty too- fangs, glowing eyes, the works." At my dad's mention of this, I couldn't help but shiver.

My Dad motioned proudly at the new portal. "You see! The ghost portal's only been on for a day, and already ghosts are flocking out of it. This baby's going to revolutionize the field of ghost hunting."

_That rabbit wasn't a ghost…Dad just thinks it is. He's overreacting. It's just a rabbit suffering from the effect of my parent's 'ectoplasm.' _

As I consoled myself, a new thought occurred to me. That rabbit had looked just like Goldie, who had gotten sick of 'ectoplasm' poisoning. So if my Dad hadn't experimented on it, then how did it get like that?

"…right," I said, trying to keep my unease from leaking into my voice. "Then how come you aren't out catching it?"

"Because Danny," my dad boomed, "I need to finish this! It will help us catch ghosts."

I stared at the object that my dad held proudly in his hand. "It's my…thermos?"

It _was_ my thermos. I had used it in middle school for lunch. But now that I was in high school, I just bought my food at the cafeteria, so I didn't use it anymore. It was dark blue, with the silver picture of a space ship on the side. Or, at least, it had been. Now a mix of silver and green metal plated half of the outside.

"Yes! But it's going to be the Fenton Thermos. All I have to do is put some ectoplasm in the insulation cavity and install retrieving device and, presto! Instant ghost containment device."

I was used to my parents making 'weapons' from ordinary household objects, but it still seemed strange. Then again, I lived with a family of ghost hunters. Everything was strange.

Unsure to respond to my dad's newest invention, I decided to change the subject. "Mom will be waiting. Dinner's ready."

Dad's face lit up like a five year old's. "Oh, boy! Dinner!"

He bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I followed him at a slower pace, my thoughts weighing me down. Just as I started up the stairs, I shivered; overcome with the same feeling of intense cold I had earlier. I looked back at the lab and thought a caught a flash of movement- but then nothing. The lab was empty.


	5. Chapter 5

In the late afternoon sunshine the three of us stood, hidden behind a dumpster filled with rotting garbage

"You're freezing," my mother exclaimed, her hand on my forehead. "I knew you were ill."

I just shrugged, doing my best to be unresponsive.

I didn't _feel_ sick. Just really tired. Last night I had slept terribly. I was woken by that awful cold. After words I couldn't get back to sleep, kept awake by that feeling of someone watching you. And even after I was able to shake the feeling off, my sleep had been fitful, interrupted with nightmares I couldn't remember when I woke up.

I stifled a yawn, my breakfast half-eaten before me. That was what had first made my mom suspicious- my lack of appetite. Last night I had hardly had any dinner, even though the spaghetti was perfectly fine (by fine I mean 'not possessed and attacking us').

"I'm afraid I can't let you go to school to day, Danny," she told me, her turquoise eyes filled with concern. "I think you're coming down with something."

My sister looked up from her toast. "I don't know mom, he doesn't look that sick to me."

I narrowed my eyes at Jazz, annoyed that she was ruining my chances of getting a day of school. She ignored me and just carried on, "Besides, being absent at school can have a serious negative effect at his age."

_Fink, _I thought sourly.

Mom was thoughtful and considered Jazz's words. After thinking them over she said, "Is there anything big happening at your school today Danny?"

I ran through my schedule and was able to truthfully tell her there wasn't anything going on.

"Well, that good. And it's only the beginning of the school year, so it shouldn't affect you too badly."

"Well fine mom," said Jazz. "If you want to harm Danny in this delicate phase of puberty, go ahead, but don't blame me if his emotional growth is stunted."

I was pretty sure that missing one day of school wasn't going to 'stunt my emotional growth', and Mom apparently agreed, since she said, "Well, we'll just have to risk that, won't we?"

Jazz just sighed- we were used to being ignored by our parents- before cleaning up her dishes and heading off for school.

Not long after Mom ushered me up to my room, and ordered me into bed. She tucked me into the blue covers and kissed me on the forehead, and I couldn't help but be thankful that none of my friends were there to see it.

My friends. Sam and Tucker.

Guilt swept over me. It was the first time I had thought about them since last night and I suddenly felt terrible about it. I had completely ran out on them. Sure, I was feeling afraid and freaked out at the time, but that was no excuse for how I had acted.

They probably hated me- if not for ditching and ignoring them, but being a ghost.

My mom must have seen my change of expression because she said, "Ugh, you're starting to look even worse! I'll make you some tea, and later you can have a hot bath."

"No, no…I'm fine. I don't need a bath." No self-respecting teenaged guy would let their mom force them to take a bath.

"You sure?" I nodded. "Okay then, we'll see how you're feeling later. I'll just be with your father if you need me."

I grunted in understanding, and she left my room, shutting the door behind her.

_What should I do? _I thought, a feeling of dread sweeping over me. I wanted to apologize to them, but I didn't even know if they'd talk to me.

_Don't be stupid Fenton, _I scolded myself. _Sam and Tuck don't even believe you're a ghost. They may be mad at you, but they're still going to speak to you. _

I wanted t call them and apologize- or at least explain myself. If nothing else, it would make me feel better.

I got up, ready to get my phone and call Tuck. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted the clock and sighed, dropping back into bed. It was too late to call them; they would be in heading to class. And even if I was sure that Tucker would have his phone on, I didn't want him to get into trouble with our math teacher, who had a strict no-phone policy.

Frustrated, I lay on my back, staring at the white ceiling. It was dotted with those fake glow-in-the-dark stars I'd put up there when I was nine. I knew they were geeky, but I couldn't bother taking them down. Secretly, I still sorta' like them.

I was still for a long time. At one point I might have fallen into one of those half sleeps, completely dreamless. It felt good, and when I woke from my stupor I felt refreshed.

Of course, with nothing to do, it wasn't long until I fell into boredom. For a while I surfed the internet, spending a good amount of time at the NASA website. When I tired of that, I picked an old Spider Man comic of the floor, and began to flit through it.

Back when we were younger, Tuck and I loved comics, like almost any other boy in America. Tuck's favorite had always been Super Man; he loved the amazing arsenal of powers, and how almost nothing could hurt him.

I preferred Spider Man. Super Man seemed almost too powerful, and fake, to me. But Spider Man I could relate with. He seemed real, with actual problems and crushes. He wasn't an all powerful super hero- he was just an everyday teenager.

I thought all this while I flipped through the brightly colored cartoons and captions. I hadn't actually read this for months- it had just been lying on the floor with all the other stuff that my parents wanted me to clean up.

Soon I had finished the comic, and I was quickly becoming bored again. I regarded the alarm clock, wondering if it was far enough into the day for my parents to allow me leaving my room.

It was just before noon when I finally dubbed it safe to go to the living room and switch on the TV. I flipped through the channels lazily, the volume low so mom (who had apparently forgotten that she was going to make me tea) wouldn't hear it and order me back into bed.

_Reality show, reality show, boring documentary, soap…hmm, a cartoon…oh! Wrestling!_

I nudged deeper in the coach, ready to spend a good few hours killing my brain cells watching mindless violence. _I love sick days. _

My dad came bounding up the chairs just as _The Crusher _began attacking the referee with a chair. "Hey Danny boy! Feeling any better?"

"A bit," I answered, trying to sound as sick as possible.

"That's good," he replied, not sounding as if he cared. "Listen, Danny, your mother and I our going out on a ghost hunt to capture that rabbit…"

My blue eyes widened with surprised. "You already finished that thermos thing?"

"Well, not quiet," my Dad admitted. "It should be a couple more weeks until we perfect it. But we didn't want to lose the trail, so we're heading out with just some of our old inventions."

"Okay…have fun." I said, beginning to turn my attention back to the TV, before another thought occurred to me. "Hey Dad?"

"Yes?"

"The ghosts are coming meant to be coming through the ghost portal, right?"

"Yep!" he agreed cheerfully.

"Well," I said slowly. "Then wouldn't it make more sense to just stalk out the portal than to go running around town?"

My dad laughed his big booming laugh. "Ahh, Danny, I remember when I was as naive as you. We can't just stake out the portal!"

"And why not?"

"Because," my Dad paused, as if looking for a reason. "Because the ghosts will be expecting it! No, we'll have a much better chance of getting them once they're far away, and let their guard down."

"Right…" _Fenton logic. I should have known. _

I turned back to the TV and my Dad ambled away, excitement radiating from him.

About five minutes later my Mom came up. I tensed, wondering if she was going to send me upstairs.

Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice. "Hey, Danny. We're leaving now, okay?"

"Yeah, mom, fine."

She looked kindly down at me. "I don't know how long we'll be. A few hours at least. You know the emergency numbers?"

"Yes, Mom! It's 911! Not that hard to remember." The irritation in my voice was imminent. Every time I was left alone I got asked the same questions. You'd think she'd learn to trust me.

"Okay, okay," she said, noticing my annoyance. "I'm your mother, and you're sick. It's my job."

I rolled my eyes.

Outside I heard my dad call. "Sweetie pie! You coming? I got the Fenton Ghost Assult Vehicle all juiced up and ready to go!"

"Coming, Jack!" She started walking away, but looked back over her shoulder. "If you're hungry, there's some soup in the microwave. Put it one for about five minutes."

"'Kay Mom," I called, just as she passed out of view. I herd her call goodbye, accompanied by the sound of the door shutting behind her.

I relaxed, settling down to watch the rest of the show. The stillness of the house was like the calm after the storm, compared to the confusion of the past two days.

Of course, we all know that couldn't last.

On screen, one of the masked fighters had another guy in a headlock. He the guy on the ground, and the impact made a sickening thud.

I winced, imaging the pain. _He's going to have a killer headache. _

I didn't realize that anything was different until my head started sinking into the couch. When my vision was suddenly blocked by the by the blue material, I sat up, startled.

_Oh no, _I thought, the beginnings of panic forming in my mind. _Not again…_

I made a beeline straight to the washroom, the closest place with a mirror.

I stood in the middle of the tiled floor, eyes closed. I was apprehensive of opening my eyes. I did not want to see what terrible side effect was in store for me today.

I eventually worked up the courage to crack open an eyelid. What I see didn't startle me as much as I had expected it to.

My head was still visible, which was good. It had just...changed. Almost all the color had drained from it, leaving it a strange translucent blue. Except for my eyes, which were the bright emerald green I'd seen before. The eyes of a ghost.

My face still had texture and shape; it had just lost all complexion and tone. You know those shows that have 3D animation? Well, my face looked like it that, except it was in the earl stages of design- the shape perfected, but there was no detail.

I could guess what was going on. My parents had talked about it enough. _Intangibility. The power to move through solid objects. _

Just to make sure, I cautiously moved my hand to my head, and tried to touch it. My fingers went through the skin as if there was nothing there. In the mirror I could just make them out, looking weirdly distorted, like they do in water.

After examining this strange phenomenon for a few moments, I pulled my hand out of my head.

_Okay…this is bad. _

Still, I tried not to panic. If this was anything like yesterday, I could just imagine my head back to normal. _Easy. _

Actually, it wasn't. It took me five minutes of concentration to get my head to return to its nice, solid state. By the time I succeeded I had a headache from focusing so hard.

I left the washroom, my feet guiding me unconsciously upstairs. I was too busy thinking to care where I was going.

I was now sure that I was a ghost. I had shown the three main powers my parents had always talked about. I didn't know why or how, it just was.

I also knew that it wasn't going to end. With these new 'powers' acting up, it wouldn't be long until someone spotted me doing something that wasn't humanly possible. And if that happened, I was sunk. At the age of fourteen, there was one thing I knew; anyone who was a different was shunned from society. Whether that society was school or a country or the world, it didn't matter. Unfortunately, I had a bad feeling that my 'shunning' would involve being sent off to a secret government facility.

I now knew that I had some level of control of these powers. _Maybe, _a part of me said, with hesitant hopefulness, _I could control them. Stop them from acting up. _

Standing in the doorway to my room, I knew which one I was going to choose.

I sat on my bed. It was only one o-clock; Sam and Tucker wouldn't be out of school for another two and a half hours. Both my parents and sister were out, leaving the house completely empty- nobody would spot me practicing.

_What better time to do it?_

So I sat on my bed, cross-legged, thinking that I'd probably be there for a while.

I realized that I had no idea how to start. So far everything had happened by mistake, uncontrolled by me. All I had done was reverse the effects.

"Choose a power," I said out loud. "Work from there."

Thinking back to the stories that I had been told over the years, I tried to remember what I had been told about ghosts' powers.

_Different ghosts have different abilities; _my Mom had once told me. _Some can control minds; other can do things like create fire. But all ghosts have three main abilities- Flying, invisibility, and intangibility. _

I was fairly sure that I only had those basic powers. I would have noticed if I read minds, or blown stuff up, or even if I had super strength. Still, it was hard to choose between those three.

Invisibility?

No, I didn't like the sound of that. I was still shaken by yesterday's incident, and the horrible picture of my armless shoulder floated in my mind.

Intangibility?

At first, I seriously considered it. But then I terrible thought occurred to me. What if my whole body went intangible and I sank into the ground? Would I keep falling until I burned in the center of the Earth? Or what if I suddenly went solid under ground? I shrived at the thought of suffocating on the soil, my hands clawing to get free.

Nope, Intangibility was out.

Flying?

I think we've all dreamed of it at one time or another. Soaring above the ground, free of gravity. I bet there are hundreds of people out there who dreamed to have the chance I did.

I couldn't resist.

I stood up on the bed, and bounced slightly. I stepped towards the edge, leaped off…

And crashed to the floor.

_Maybe I should have thought that through. _

I sat up, and all the bruises I had gotten yesterday throbbed. I cursed, glad that my Mom wasn't there to hear me.

I stood up. Obviously just jumping off the bed wasn't doing anything. Experimentally, I jumped up on the spot, seeing if I would stay in the air. But, as I expected, I landed back on the floor.

I remembered how I had to picture my arm and had back to normal. Maybe I had to imagine my self flying in the air.

I gave it a try, imaging my body hovering above the ground, and jumped. But the result was the same. I repeated it several more times, growing more frustrated in each failed attempt.

"What am I doing wrong?" I half growled.

I knew I could fly. The day of the accident I had done just that. That's why I'd been freaking out, wasn't it? That and the fact that I was glowing and looked like a ghost.

_I had looked like a ghost._

An idea started growing in my head. I half-expected it to fail, it seemed so stupid.

_No more stupid then launching yourself off a bed, expecting to fly. _

I closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. I called a memory to my head. The memory of how I had looked after climbing out of the portal.

And it came. I could see the stark white hair, glowing ever so softly, and my skin, tanned in a way I had never before managed. I envisioned those glowing orbs, of which I had only seen a few minutes ago. I added as much detail as I could to the picture.

I felt a cold sensation grow around my face. Before I could react I saw a bright light through my closed eyelids. Startled, I whipped them open, but the light had already disappeared.

Curiously, I looked down. My hand was glowing!

I was mildly surprised to see that I was wearing gloves, identical to the ones on my jumpsuit except in color. I hadn't really taken my clothing into account- if anything; I thought I'd be wearing an inverted form of my pajamas.

Even though I couldn't see my face, I was sure I knew what I'd see there.

I smiled, even though a part of me was repulsed by my appearance. Well, maybe not repulsed. Just afraid, filled with a fear that had been drummed into me since birth.

I bounded over to the bed, ready to give flying a try again. But just as I was about to climb back onto the bed, I paused. Then I ripped off the cover and spread it on the floor, before doing the same to the pillows. If I fell, I wanted some padding.

When I jumped off, I knew something was different. I couldn't feel the tug of gravity. I hung in the air a few seconds long then usual, and then fell to the ground, but at a slower pace than before.

I landed on the balls of my feet, amazed. I had almost got it!

Enthusiastically, I tried again. But this time, I tried to picture myself flying.

Once again I leaped off the bed, and the effect was instantaneous. Instead of falling, I just kept rising, before slowing to a halt in mid air.

Looking around, I could barely believe it. Once, I got a chance to go on a bungee trampoline. It was like that moment when you were suspended, neither going neither up nor down, except better. There was no annoying harness pulling on you and it didn't end.

For a few moments, I just hung in the air, savoring my victory. Eventually, I realized that one way or another, I would have to move.

I tilted my self foreword, only to find myself twirling in a summersault. As my bedroom blurred around me, I waved my arms around, trying to stop.

_Okay. I'm not doing that again, _I thought once I had stopped, and was waiting for the world to stop spinning.

I was sensing a pattern. It seemed I actually had to _think _about what I wanted to do, in order for it to happen. So, I imagined moving forward.

And I did, but at a (flying) snails pace. So I imagined going faster. The result? Zooming foreword so quickly it was all I could do to ovoid colliding with the wall.

I spent the next half hour trying to use these basics. It wasn't all that hard- I thought something and it happened. The hard part was controlling what happened. If I didn't specify exactly how I wanted to do something, I would end up going to fast or slow. And sometimes, if my thoughts wandered, I would start floating up or down. It took a lot of concentration.

Eventually, I landed on the floor; feeling satisfied with myself, if a bit tired.

I sat down by my desk, and was about to attempt to return to normal, when I glanced out the window. I saw the surrounding buildings and the blue sky outside, darkened by clouds on the horizon.

I walked towards it, not quite sure what I was going to do. I pulled the window open- it took some force since I didn't open it often.

I leaned out, a faint breeze ruffling my hair. I took a deep breath of the cool air. Then, without expecting to, I climbed onto the sill.

I held onto the frame for balance, I threw my legs forwards, so that I was sitting on the ledge. In the back of my mind, someone was screaming, _Stop, you idiot! _But I gave little notice.

Alright, you may call me crazy. I had just learned to fly not even an hour ago, and here I was, about to jump out my window. But I couldn't help it- the temptation was too great.

I pictured myself in the sky, without anything supporting me. Once I was sure that picture was in my head, I gave a little push with my front legs, and launched myself off the brick wall.

For a few seconds, I was swamped by fear. It suddenly hit me that I was two stories from the ground, with nothing to break my fall. Panic rose up in me and I tired to scramble back through the window.

As soon as the image of me flying left my head, I felt myself begin to fall as gravity regained its hold on me. I made a grab for the window ledge, and held on for dear life.

I hung there for several minutes, my heart pounding and my arms beginning to ache.

_Don't panic, Fenton. Panicking is bad. You'll be fine as long as you don't panic._

Easier said than done.

I tried again, repeating the process I'd been doing all afternoon. I felt the tug on my arms lessen and I began to rise.

I floated there, realizing that this might not have been the best idea. But I wasn't going to stop now. Fenton stubbornness prevented me.

_Okay, _I thought, _now let's try to move foreword. _

Focusing, I began to drift in the air. I followed the contour of the house, ready to grab it, just in case.

Slowly my confidence grew. I moved farther away from the house. It reminded me of my first time to the pool. At first I stuck in the shallow end, keeping my feet firmly planted on the floor, before I worked up the courage to move into the deeper water.

I went higher in the air. The wind was stronger. I let it pull me along, like a current in the ocean.

I can't tell you how wonderful flying was. It was complete freedom. When I went faster it felt just like I was on a roller coaster, just a hundred times better, since there was no track or harness.

Looking down I could see Amity Park stretched below me. I was only a few meters above the buildings, and I could still see everything in detail. I saw a group of kids chasing an ice-cream truck and the football team heading towards Nasty Burger.

That was when it occurred to me that I might be seen. I looked downwards, searching to see if anybody was pointing my way.

I was in the clear. I realized that people rarely looked up. _And besides, if someone did, who'd believe it?_

I floated in the air for a long time, becoming bolder. Once I tried a loop-de-loop. Occasionally there were those terrible moments when I lost my concentration and almost fell to the ground. Even though I always caught myself in time, it never became any less frightening.

After a while, I heard a piercing 'caw!' from above me and looked around. It was a bird, silhouetted against the setting sun. By its size I guessed it was an eagle or falcon.

At least, I thought that until its position shifted and I was able to look on it head on.

The bide had vibrant green wings and a starling blue tail. Its eyes glowed a hostile red. Its entire body shimmered just like my own. I shivered, suddenly freezing.

"Another one!" I said disbelieving. Just how many of these mutated animals were there?

This turned out to be a mistake, because the bird noticed my voice, and turned its head on me. From the look in his eye, I could tell that he didn't like me.

Tilting his wings, the bird swooped around. Quick as a flash it flew down, talons outstretched.

I cried out in pain as I felt its claws on my back. Distracted, I began to fall.

Pushing the pain from my mind, I forced myself to stay in the air. It was hard. I had gotten beaten up at school tons of times, but this was a different kind of pain. It was sharp and shearing and cut like a knife.

While I regained my composure, panting hard, the eagle was preparing its next attack. Letting out another shriek, it dived at me. But this time I was ready. I darted out of the way, just in time, its claws just missing me.

It wasn't going to give up so easily. The bird was already preparing for another go at me.

I realized that I couldn't stay in the air. It wouldn't be long until I got too distracted and fell. I needed to land.

_But Where? _Not on the streets- I would be in plain view. I could land on one of the roofs, but then how would I get down? People would be suspicious when they found me on the top of there houses. And I couldn't go back home since it was too far away. The bird would catch me before I got there.

Dodging another attack, I looked around franticly. Then I spotted it.

It was an average brick house, similar to most of the others in Amity Park. But I knew it anywhere- It was Tucker's house.

I raced towards it, the bird on my tail (literally. My legs had fused into a wispy tail again. But I had no time to worry about that.) _Please be home, please be home, please be home…._

I hesitated a moment, trying to figure out which window led to Tucker's room. Then I flew forward, and began hammering on the glass.

"What…" came Tucker's muffled reply a few moments later.

In the moments I floated there, the bird caught up with me. I was assaulted by claws and pecks from the beak. Eventually, I hit it away, throwing it into the air.

At that precise moment Tucker's face appeared at the window. He forced it open, his face in an expression of disbelief. "Danny?"

"Later," I told him, soaring in. "Close the window!"

Finally I got this chapter posted. It took me forever to write, since I was assaulted by every author's worst fear- writer's block. Anyway, please tell me if you spot any errors.


	6. Chapter 6

A man sat typing at his computer, slight bags under his eyes due to the time (1:20 am)

"How about Ghost Guy? Or Super Specter?"

"No Tuck," I told him, rummaging around in his draws. "Ugh, do you have anything other than cargo pants?"

"Hey, I can wear whatever I like. Besides, it's the only pants that fit all of my cell phones and PDAs."

Now, you may be wondering why I'm searching through Tucker's clothes. Well, its quite simple really. When I transformed back to normal (which took a while) I discovered that I was still wearing my pajamas.

I couldn't fly home because A) that demon bird was still outside and was turning out to be quite persistent. And B) Afterwards, I realized I was feeling very tired, as if I was running around all day. With my exhaustion and injuries all over my backs, I wasn't sure if I could trust myself flying home.

So, I had to walk home. And I was not going to risk being spotted in my starry pajamas covered in rockets and die of mortal embarrassment.

Finally finding something suitable, I pulled out a pair of jeans, and threw it on Tucker's bed with I shirt I'd already found.

"There," I said. I began pulling off my night stuff and putting on normal clothes.

"So," said Tucker in a light tone. "I see you don't like any of the names I've given you so far. But don't worry, 'cause I've got more of them! There's Ghoul-"

"No Tuck. I am not going to become a super hero."

"You're joking, right?" Tucker looked at me very seriously, which was rare. Tucker was almost never serious. "You've just gotten super powers and you are _not _going to become a world famous hero that people around the world will idolize? You're crazy!"

"Listen. I don't want these powers. If I could, I'd get rid of them," I paused while I pulled a shirt over my head. "But, it doesn't look like that's going to happen, so my only choice is to learn to control them."

"Oh, right, you just want to control them. That's why you were flying outside in broad daylight," said Tucker sarcastically.

"Yeah, and then I got attacked by an evil bird. Trust me, I'm not doing _that_ again."

Tucker shook his head. "What ever, dude."

Overall, Tucker had taken it pretty well once explained to him. He was a bit annoyed at me for running away, but not too much. "I was just about to call you," he had told me.

He still didn't understand how I could be a ghost, but he couldn't ignore the facts. But he fully supported me and said that he's help me get to the bottom of it. Thankfully, he didn't even mention telling my parents, realizing that I didn't like the idea (unlike _some people). _

There was one annoying drawback- his insistence that I should become a teen crime fighter, just like in a comic book. The absurdity of the idea surprised me- not only did Amity Park have one of the lowest crime rates in all of America, but it seemed to picture me, Danny Fenton, as a super hero. I mean, come on. I could barley pas gym and was constantly being picked on. I was not superhero material.

I finished pulling on an old pair of running shoes that Tucker had scavenged for me. "Okay, I'm ready to go. Can you distract your mum for me?"

This was important. If Tucker's mom (who taught Kindergarten, so always came home early) spotted me, she's wonder how I'd come in with out noticing. I could come up with a lie, but there was always a chance that she's mention it to my mom. Since I was supposed to be home sick, if she found out I'd probably get stuck in the Fenton Stockades for the night.

"Don't worry about that...she's watching TV. She won't need distracting." He opened the door and peeked into the hallway. I could here the distant sound of TV drifting up the stairs. "Still, I'll come with you, just in case."

The two of us sneaked down the corridor, trying to make as little noise as possible. We approached the stairs, tiptoeing down them. Using the banister for support, we both jumped the third last stair, which always squeaked. I spent so much time at my friends house that I knew it like the back of my hand.

Next was the hard bit- passing the living room. Sticking close to the wall, Tucker went first, while I prepared to follow.

"Tucker?" I almost jumped at the sound of his Mom's voice. It was sharp and suspicious.

"Yeah," said Tucker, trying to keep calm. "It's just me. All alone. Not doing anything wrong."

I wanted to face palm. Subtlety was _not _one of Tucker's strong points.

"Right," was his mother's reply, disbelieving. "Listen Tucker Foley, you better not be getting a snack. You'll ruin your supper."

"What are we having?"

"Ribs."

I could almost feel the hunger and joy radiate off Tucker. "Yum! I can't wait."

His Mom seemed satisfied. "Okay then. I'll just be watching TV."

I heard Mrs. Foley move back to watch the TV, while Tucker moved calmly out of his Mom's sight. After a few moments he motioned for me to come over.

I did so, and thankfully Mrs. Foley didn't notice since a bout of canned laughter came up, blocking the sound of my foot steps. The two of us the rushed down the hall as quickly (and silently) as possible. Tucker then open the front the door and ushered me out, barley making a squeak.

"See 'ya tomorrow," he said quietly. "And good luck."

I nodded and jumped down the steps. Tucker closed the door, which closed more loudly then he intended. I could just make out Tucker's mom calling out to him. I hoped I hadn't gotten Tucker into trouble.

_Can't do anything about it now, _I thought and began my trek home. First, though, I looked up in the sky. That freaky demented bird was still up there, circling in front of Tucker's bedroom window.

As I walked home, constantly on the look out for anyone who might report back to my family, I couldn't help but wonder about the bird. There was something weird going on. In two days I had spotted two weirdly colored animals with anger management problems. It wasn't my Dad experimenting on them. Maybe chemicals from my parent's lab had leaked into the water supply? Or maybe there was some new virus going around- a mutated form of rabies.

But yesterday the rabbit had flown away. That didn't seem like something a normal disease could cause. _Must be my parents causing it, _I decided at last.

I stopped at a corner. I had almost arrived at my house, and it had suddenly occurred to me that my parents might be home. So I peeked around the corner to see if they had returned. Thankfully, the car wasn't there. (or, as my Dad would say, 'The Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle' wasn't there.)

Relived, I headed up the stone stairs, and began digging into my pockets. "Shit!"

I suddenly remembered that I was wearing Tucker clothes. And under my arms were my pajamas. I didn't have my keys with me!

I realized that I was going to be outside when my parents came home, when ever that would be. And saying that I got stuck outside for some reason wasn't an option, since I was wearing Tucker's clothes.

I was just about to sit back and wait for the inevitable doom that was to come, when an idea struck me.

_Ghost can walk through solid objects!_

I knew I could do it- just this morning my head had turned translucent, afterall.

I was going to start mentally preparing myself when my fears from earlier in the afternoon drifted through my head. What if I really did get stuck under earth, destined to suffocate once I ran out of energy? Or would I actually end up in China like all the cartoons say?

I decided I would just have to take that risk.

I sat down on the steps, ready to get to work. I felt that I should start with something small and easy to visualize. I settled or my hand.

This was harder to do than imagining myself flying. I needed to make a perfect picture of my hand- just with a blue tint to the translucent skin. After a few moments of focusing on this image, I opened my eyes. There was my hand, no longer opaque, but just as I had imagined it.

Ready to experiment, I stuck my hand into the concrete stairs and watched as if fell through. It was the strangest sensation ever. It was as if I cold almost feel the texture of the cement, but not quite. I can't really describe it.

After this, I looked up to see if anyone was on to street to notice me. I kid on a bike turned off the street, not even looking my way. I dog was reliving itself on a fire hydrant. _Coast clear. _

Now, I imagined my whole body intangible, ready to walk through walls at will. But, horrific thoughts in mind, I also made sure to imagine myself standing- and not falling through the ground.

I knew I had succeeded when I felt my whole body tingling all over. I looked over myself briefly, thinking how strange the whole situation was, before plunging into the door.

It was a short, but scary trip. For a few seconds I couldn't see anything. In my mouth I could taste the horrible flavor of the wood and I was unable to breath. I suddenly felt claustrophobic. I would to _anything_, as long as it would get me out of that wall.

And then it was over.

I was standing in the hall way, completely unharmed. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself down, tying to forget the darkness. After some effort I managed to turn myself tangible again.

I idled into the kitchen, my head full of thoughts. But the only one that stuck in my head was, _Strangest day ever. _

My stomach growled. When was the last time I'd eaten? I'd had a few miserable spoonfuls of cereal this morning, but that was about it.

I suddenly remembered that my mom had left some soup in the microwave. Walking over, I checked it out. It was chicken noodle. _Typical._

I punched in the digits and sat down at the kitchen table. For a few moments I was amazed at how normal everything seemed. The soup rotating in the microwave. The clock ticking down the hall. Nothing to suggest that I had just used newly acquired superpowers to sneak out of the house.

Ugh. My superpowers.

I didn't want to think about them. I meant what I had told Tucker. I wanted nothing to do with them. I knew that they would bring nothing but trouble, especially if the events of the last couple of days were anything to go by. Humiliating my self in front of Paulina, fighting with my friends, getting attacked by mutant animals….

Which worried me. I don't know why. Hadn't I already decided it was some new disease caused by ectoplasm?

'_You see? The ghost portal's only been on for a day and already ghosts are flocking out of it!' _My dads words came back to haunt me (no pun intended).

What if my Dad wasn't wrong? What if all the strange animals were ghosts? Would that really be so strange, considering what had happened to me?

The shrill beep of the microwave interrupted m thoughts. I reluctantly got up, suddenly feeling very tired. I got my soup, the savory smell (almost) making me drool. I got I spoon and plunged it into the broth, inhaling the liquid.

As I sucked on the hot spoon, I contemplated this. Ghosts? Real live ghosts? (OK, maybe not alive, but you get the idea.) I realized that if I was right, things were going to get really strange in this city.

I pictured it in my minds. Spirits of the dead floating around, scaring people out of their wits. And then, that would only be the more passive ghosts. If my parents were right, then more hostile ghosts would come. Evil ghosts who wanted nothing but pain and destruction. The world might break out into World War Three- but instead of the world fighting among themselves, it would be against evil demons with extraordinary powers.

For a few moments I felt frozen with fear. _I_ had caused this. I was the one who had turned on the stupid machine.

_It's not your fault, _a part of me said. _You didn't make the machine. You didn't mean to turn it on._

Another part of me spoke up. _Yeah! And who says that's even gonna' happen? All the ghosts you say so far were pretty weak. You're parents can take care of them._

I relaxed, lowering my spoon. I was being silly. I had enough problems without imagining more of them up.

_Everything's going to be fine. All I have to do is learn to control my powers. Then I won't have to worry about this ever again._

And on that happy not, a finished my soup.

"What do you mean he hasn't caught anything?"

Skulker shifted in mid-air, facing Plasmuius. This time they were not in the study, but a large lab, far more sophisticated then the one in that of the Fenton's.

"Just that, sir," said the ghosts, being far more polite then he usually was. He knew it wasn't a good idea to get on this man's bad side. "He tried tracking them down, but they got away."

"It seems I overestimated that fool," stated Plasmuius. He straightened out is expensive suit. "It seems that I do not require your service any more, Skulker. You may leave." He gestured to the large portal that the robotic ghost floated in front of.

Skulker's metal body stiffened. He did not understand his employer's fascination with the new portal or the man who designed it, but he did know one thing. If his interest stopped, he would know longer need him, and would not pay him for his work. And who knew how long it would be until he needed him again.

"Perhaps you are being a bit too rash."

Plasmuius raised an eyebrow. He knew what the ghost wanted, but was still interested in what he had to say. "How so?"

"It has only been two days since you released the ghosts, sir, which I know from experience is hardly enough time for a proper hunt. One much stalk the prey, analyzing its strengths and weaknesses, preparing-"

The man coughed. "I do not want a lecture Skulker. Just get to the point."

"Well, my point it that perhaps the man needs more time. And you might want larger prey. Something a bit more noticeable."

The man studied the ghost. As a business man, he knew that all he wanted was his payment. But he had nothing to lose. He _was_ the richest man on the planet after all.

_Besides, _he thought darkly, _a bit more research wouldn't hurt. My revenge must be perfect._

"I see your point Skulker. Now, I don't suppose I could have a look at your collection?"


	7. Chapter 7

In the late afternoon sunshine the three of us stood, hidden behind a dumpster filled with rotting garbage

"There's just one thing I don't get," said Sam, walking backwards down the street so that she could face me. "Why don't you tell your parents?"

It was the next day, and I was heading to school since my parents had dubbed me well enough. I had slept better last night, so I was feeling more cheerful than yesterday. Or at least I had been until Sam brought this topic up.

We'd all spoke last night on the Web Cam, but we had left any major discussion for today (even though I insisted there was nothing to discuss).

"I just don't want to."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Danny, you're a terrible liar. What's the real reason?"

I sighed and stopped. Sam and Tucker did too, looking at me. "Come on guys. What's my parent's job?"

"Scientists," said Tucker.

"Paranormal investigators," said Sam at the same time.

"They're ghost hunters." They looked mildly surprised that I'd said it so bluntly. Over the last couple years Jazz and I hadn't really broadcasted that fact. "And do you know what they'd do if they found out? They'd… kill me."

"They wouldn't do that!" Tucker looked shocked. "They love you. They won't just kill you because you're a ghost!"

"I wouldn't be so sure. Parents don't understand us. They just see us for freaks."

There was a lot of bitterness and anger in Sam's voice. I could understand that. I'd only met Mrs. and Mr. Mason twice, but I didn't like them. And they didn't like me. And they certainly didn't like Sam's…uniqueness. I think they blame me since my parents hunt ghosts.

"Sam, that's your parents. You know Danny's aren't like that."

"Usually they aren't," I agreed. "But with ghosts they're different. They don't care who the ghost was in life. To them, once you're dead, you're evil."

"But you're not evil," both of them said at once.

"Yeah…I'm not."

I started walking again, the two of them following me. We walked in silence for a while, each of us immersed in our own thoughts.

Sam broke the silence. "Hey, Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"You know we've got your back, right? That we'll support you know matter what?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I know."

Sam smiled back. "Good."

"Love birds," Tucker laughed, completely ruining the moment.

Of the immense prison we call school, one form of torture stands above rest. It goes by a name feared by the student body: Physical Education.

"I hate PE." I nodded, agreeing with Tucker. We were currently standing at the edge of the group of our classmates in the middle of the gym.

"Oh, it's not that bad."

For once Sam was out of her dark clothes wearing the white and red PE uniform and runners. She had a mocking smile on her face.

"It is for normal people," I told her.

"Well, I'm not normal, am I?" Neither of us could come up with a reply to that.

"Okay, okay, settle down!"

I looked over to see the PE teacher, Mrs., Teltsaff. At first glance she doesn't look like the kind of person you'd expect to be a gym teacher. She's what you'd call 'portly' and always is carrying around _something_ to eat. However she has iron lungs, and that's what really matters, right?

All the students continued with their conversations, and she asked for quiet again. When this had no effect she shouted; "Shut up!"

That got everyone's attention. "Sorry I had to stop all of your important conversations," said the teacher, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "but I do have a class to teach. Now today, we'll be doing football."

Voices broke out among the students. It was a mix of annoyance (Mainly girls), complete fear (Mickey and some other nerds) and a chorus of cheers from the jocks. Personally, I think I fit into the 'fear' category.

"Great," I muttered to Tucker. "Now I get to be beaten up in class, too."

After Mrs. Testlaff had gotten everyone's attention again, she began her introduction. "Okay, class. Football. Basically all you need to do is get the ball and get over to your side. Simple. "

She surveyed the class in the way only a teacher can, munching away on her chips all the while. "To pass gym you have to get at least a B in this topic. However, I am aware that most of you have the athletic ability of a worm. So I would suggest you get practicing."

She got us into a line, and began sorting us into teams. Sam and I got put together while Tucker got separated (he didn't look to happy about it).

But, when the teacher got to the A-list girls, Paulina just smiled sweetly. "Could we please be excused from today's lesson?"

The bulky physical education teacher raised an eyebrow. "And why, should I do that, Miss Sanchez? Do you have a note?"

"Well, no," Paulina said, in a charming, accented voice. "But, you see, my friends and I are on the cheer squad, and we wouldn't want anything to happen…" She trailed off, batting her eyelashes.

While Sam pretended to gag besides me, Mrs. Testlaff considered her point. "Well… I suppose you don't really need to take this section. Your cheerleading should be enough to give you a passing grade….You three are excused."

The cheerleaders squealed and quickly ran out of the line. Besides me Sam grumbled.

"Ugh, just because they're pretty and on the 'Oh, So Wonderful Cheer Squad' those girls can get away with anything."

I didn't respond. It was a well known fact that since both the cheerleaders and football players brought in extra income to the school they often got extra perks. Sure, it's annoying, but that's just the way things are.

Tucker, who was hanging back to delay heading over to his team, did respond. "Who cares if they get out of class? They're still hot."

This earned a punch from Sam.

"Stop dawdling and get into your teams. I haven't got all day!"

Slowly we all shuffled into groups. Those who were already assembled on my team were all huddling around Cameron, one of the only football players we had on our team.

"Okay," he said in a deep voice. "I'm going to keep it simple for you wimps. If you get the ball pass it to me, or Craig." He pointed to a red haired boy whose body looked like it was built for speed, rather than strength.

Most of us nodded uneasily, except for Sam and a few others, who was completely confident.

"Nerdy," said Craig, pointing to Mickey's slightly overweight friend. "Sit out. We have too many people." The boy seemed pretty relived.

We got into a line, facing the other team. While this team only had one member of the football team, that didn't mean nobody else was athletic. I did not want to be on the receiving end of one of their tackles.

Mrs. Testlaff marched out, carrying the foot ball in the crook of her arm. She passed to the chosen quarter back of the opposite team.

"Fifty, forty-two, twenty-seven, fifteen, HUT!"

The opposite team broke into action (or mostly did. Some people seemed completely confused), grabbing for the ball and making a run for it.

The game mostly seemed like a blur to me. After getting accidentally jostled when I got in front of the guy with the ball, I mostly tried to stay out of the action. I cheered when our team made a touchdown. I ran when the balls came my way. I cheered like crazy when Sam somehow got the ball and none of the guys were able to stop her.

That's pretty much how the game went, until...Some guy panicked and passed the ball to me. Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of the field, with a football in my hand, watching with horror as I got charged at by pretty much half of the opposite team.

"Run!" I heard Tucker call from somewhere behind me. "Run for your life!"

He didn't need to tell me twice. I was already running full pelt down the field.

Unfortunately for me, if there's one thing I've inherited from my Dad it's his athletic ability. And trust me, that last place you want to be if you have Fenton genes is to be in the middle of the football field.

That's why it wasn't long until I could see the shadows of my pursuers in front of me as well as hear their labored breathing. Soon there were people on either side of me, preparing for the kill.

I knew what was going to happen a second in advance. I was lunged at, almost simultaneously, from all sides. I closed my eyes, hoping it wouldn't hurt too badly. _I could sure use intangibility now._

_Maybe…_An Idea popped into my head, I focused, hoping it would work.

Big, burly kid number one lunged at my feet, only to grab air. The guy grunted as he hit the ground face first, looking rather confused.

_It worked!_

The other two tried to get me instead- key word is _tried._ I partly jumped out of the way of one, who only managed to get hold of my foot. I stumbled, but was able to break free and regain my momentum.

The other guy got tackled by one of the members of my team, leaving me in the clear. And that meant that for the first time in my fourteen year old life I scored a touchdown.

As soon as I crossed the line, I threw the ball on the ground. I put my hands on my knees and took deep breaths. My lungs were burning and I had a serious stitch. Having superpowers obviously didn't make me any fitter.

Once I caught my breath, I slowly walked back to the centre of the field. A few of my team mates called out to me as I walked by. I could also hear murmuring.

"I don't get it…I mean, I lunged at him, but it was like his feet just disappeared!" I gulped when I heard that. I looked as if some people had noticed my intangibility in all the confusion. _I'll have to be more careful. _

"Fenton?" someone else said, just loud enough for me to hear. "I can't believe it. I went to middle school with him and he's always had the athletic ability, of like, a sponge."

I ignored them. I had been insulted ever since I had gotten into high school. And it wasn't about to start bothering me now.

I paused when I found Tucker. He was wearing a smirk on his face, but he also looked surprised. "What was that?" he asked quietly.

I was about to answer when… "Fenton!"

'Later,' I mouthed to him, before turning to Mrs. Testlaff.

She strode up to me, clicking her tongue on the top of her mouth. "Impressive, Fenton…Never would have thought you had it in you. Your family has never been the athletic types."

I saw my Dad, who in his bright orange jumpsuit that made him look like a human circus tent, and my sister Jazz, who defiantly values brain more than brawn. I knew where she was coming from.

"Thanks…I guess."

Mrs. Testlaff looked down at her watch. "Looks like we have time for one last play…Foley, Fenton, back to your teams. We don't have time to just stand and chat."

The two of us had no choice but to listen. _So much for talking to Tucker._

I started to jog back to my team, looking over my head to Tucker, who was watching me best he could without his glasses.

I headed over to Sam who was wearing an expression very similar to that of Tucker's, although there seemed something other than joy on her face. Unfortunately, I couldn't immediately speak to her, since we had to begin another play.

Once the game got under way, I hung back with Sam. I was hoping that the part of the field we were standing on would stay clear long enough for us to have a conversation.

Before she was able to say anything, Dash came over, a sneer on his face. _What's he doing here? Shouldn't he be in class? _

Then, seeing the expression on his face, my thoughts became a lot darker. _Don't worry. He can't do anything to you in front of a teacher. _

"Listen Fenton," he hissed, malice in his voice. "Don't think that you're suddenly cool or anything. It was dumb luck. It's not getting you out of any poundings."

I gulped and nodded, hoping he would just leave me alone.

"Aww. Is the 'wittle football player feeling threatened?" Even Dash, as stupid as he is, couldn't miss the mockery in the voice.

Dash whipped around to face Sam. It was almost comical to see. Dash towered over her, muscles bulging, dwarfing the girl. But Sam stared coolly back. "Watch it Manson."

"Watch it? Why? It's not like you could_actually_ hit me."

I watched with interest, only slightly fearful. Sam was never physically bullied. Teased and insulted, sure, but never beaten up. The guys claimed it was because she was a girl, but I think the dark make-up and heavy combat boots helped.

"You're going to pay for that, creepy girl."

"What ever, Dash." She turned her head back to the field, seemingly becoming very interested in the game. The sound of a shrill whistle rang above the shouts that always accompany PE lessons.

Sam smiled at Dash offhandedly. "Oh, and that's the end of the game. You might want to get going. Even being the 'Football Team's Golden Boy,' won't help you if you get caught skiving class."

Dash looked up quickly, scanning for any teachers. Mrs. Testlaff was trying to get control of the class so they would go get changed. Sooner or later, he would get spotted.

He glared at the Goth and then me, before stalking off without another word.

"Thanks Sam," I told her, once he was out of earshot.

"What can I say? Somebody has to keep you from being killed."

"That was awesome! Did you see the look on Dash's face?"

"No I didn't….mainly because I was trying my best not to be on the receiving end of a tackle."

Tucker and I were in an empty changing room. It was empty since I always wait for everyone else to leave, since I like my privacy when I shower. Today it also had the added bonus of Tucker and I being able to talk without anybody listening in to our conversation.

I opened one of the lockers and pulled out my jeans and shirt. Tucker, already dressed, kept talking.

"Yeah, what was that about, anyway? You said yesterday that you'd gotten your powers under control." He was referring to the internet conversation the three of us had had last night.

My answered as soon as I got my head through the hole. "I never said that! I just said that I'd learned to fly!"

Tucker shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so…" He paused, watching I pulled on my pants. "Can you hurry up? I'm starved!"

"I never said you had to wait for me."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to. Although, if you take this long every time, I don't think I'll do it again."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm glad I have such a supportive friend."

Finally I finished tying my shoes. "There, I'm done. We can go now."

The two of us left the deserted changing room, Tucker going on about how awesome my display in the gym was (and about how hungry he was). He started heading for the cafeteria, but I steered him away, heading to the outdoor courtyard. "Let's find Sam first."

We found her sitting at a fringe picnic table that was under a tree. We meandered towards her, and as we neared we saw she was chasing a cherry tomato around with her fork.

"Sam!" I called, and she looked up.

"Look who finally arrived."

"Not my fault." Tucker raised his hands defensively. "Do you know how long this guy takes in the shower?"

"Well, yeah, since I wait for him every time after PE."

Tucker and I sat down, and Sam passed us a tray I just noticed, laden with two hamburgers. "Here, I bought you guys some fried dead slabs of meat. Enjoy."

Tucker smiled before digging in. "Fanks, 'Am," he said, which translated means, 'Thanks, Sam,' in the language speaking with your mouth full.

"Your welcome…and by the way, you both owe me three dollars for getting your lunch."

Tucker groaned (his mouth still full) and the two of us pulled out our wallets. Once we had handed Sam the cash, I was finally able to eat.

Just as I was biting into my hamburger, Sam finally brought up the topic that I was waiting for. "So, pretty impressive show in gym."

I winced, which was pretty hard to do with your mouth full. Once I had swallowed I said, "I didn't mean to…It was reflexive."

Sam snorted in disbelief. "Okay, Danny, I'm just saying it's a great way to get your grade up in gym. Although, if you want to keep low profile, I wouldn't suggest doing it again."

The tone of her voice was slightly disapproving. Sam is big on morals, and I knew she didn't like the thought of me cheating. Honestly, I didn't like the idea of it either- but I hadn't meant to do it. Well, maybe I had, a bit… But, still. It wasn't completely my fault. It wasn't like I wanted someone to spot me going intangible.

"It's also a great way to humiliate the jocks," added Tucker helpfully.

"I can use my brain to keep them in check, perfectly fine," said Sam with a cat like smile, and I knew she was thinking about how she had trashed Dash.

"That was pretty awesome," I agreed.

Tucker looked confused. "Okay, I'm missing something here…"

"Oh, right, you weren't there," I said, remembering the Tucker had been climbing the rope while we had our exchange with Dash. "It was pretty cool. Dash had come over to threaten me…"

I broke off, a tendril of steam rising from my mouth. I shivered violently.

"Oh, no." I was suddenly filled with dread. I was begging to sense a pattern.

"What?" Sam and Tucker said simultaneously.

I looked around warily, searching for who-knows-what. "Not sure…"

"Guys," said Sam, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. "What's that?"

I followed her hand to where she was pointing: A branch of the tree up above us. Staring back at me from the shadows of the foliage were a pair of bright, red eyes.

He, he, cliffie. I hate reading them, but they sure are fun to write.

And yes, I know, late update. I'm really sorry. But between my exams, performance and all the other things that are essential for life, I barley have time to breathe. (Takes deep breath).


	8. Chapter 8

In the late afternoon sunshine the three of us stood, hidden behind a dumpster filled with rotting garbage

Slowly, the creature emerged from the darkness, shimming down the trunk. It was perhaps the strangest creature I had ever seen. Its body was that of a monkey, with long arms and legs, perfectly made for gripping, and a twisting tail.

But that was where the similarities ended. Instead being covered in fur, like primates, the creature was scaly, like an snake. It was bright green, and had spikes running down its head to its back. Overall, it looked pretty menacing.

It snarled at us, showing off bright glowing teeth, and my feelings were confirmed.

"Ghost," Sam breathed.

The ghost advanced on us, still snarling. On the ends of its fingers I saw nasty looking claws.

I didn't know what to do. This thing looked way more dangerous than a bird or a rabbit.

As the thing came closer, Tucker leaned slowly towards me, probably trying not to make and sudden movements.

"This doesn't look good," he whispered, his eyes keyed onto the creature slowly approaching.

_Well, duh,_ I thought.

Out loud I said: "So, what do we do?"

"Still working on it," was his rushed response.

_Great._

"Let's try backing away," whispered Sam. "Monkeys are territorial. If we leave, maybe it won't bother us, and we can get help."

I wasn't sure how much monkey instincts applied to this situation. But I couldn't think of anything better to do. So I nodded, hoping Sam was right.

Besides me Tucker began to edge off the bench, mirroring Sam who was doing the Sam. I was slowly lifting my legs and turning my body around, twisting my head to keep the ghost in sight. We were all kept on edge by the low snarling coming from the ghost.

As I lowered my second leg, I prepared to get up. Then, just as it made contact with the ground there was a loud _snap!_

I jumped in surprise, stifling a yell.

Startled by the noise and sudden movement, the ghost lunged at me, its teeth bared.

I shut my eyes, preparing for the pain that awaited me.

I heard a thud. The pain didn't come.

I opened my eyes, and looked around. Sam was standing up, and the ghost lay on the ground, the lunch tray near his head.

"Sam! You knocked it out!"

But the words were barely out of my mouth when the ghost stirred, before he looked up. His blood-red eyes focused on Sam, and he let out a screech.

The ghost shifted himself into a crouch, ready to pounce. Tucker was grabbing for a rock by his feet. As the ghost lunged, Tucker hurled it at him.

Which would have been great if Tucker could actually aim.

"Dodge!" Tucker yelled as the ghost flew towards Sam. She ducked just in time, the ghost's fingers like feet just grabbing a handful of her hair.

But the creature wouldn't let go, and kept its claws tangled in Sam's pony tail. Sam grunted and desperately tried to shake it off.

"Don't worry Sam!" I called, looking around franticly. I picked up another rock, which felt heavy in my hands. I pulled my arm back, hoping against hope that I would aim properly.

I did. The rock soared through the air straight towards the creature on Sam's head.

The ghost looked up and saw the rock flying towards it. Its scarlet eyes widened in shock. I was sure the rock was going to hit the target.

But it seemed that the ghost had learned from last time, since a second before impact it turned a pale blue. The rock flew through his translucent body as if it wasn't even there. _Oh, right, intangibility._

But it seemed my efforts weren't completely wasted. Sam must have felt the ghost's grip disappear when it turned intangible, since she shook her head, throwing the creature off, and dashed towards us. Together, the three of us crouched behind the picnic table.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, peeking over the table to get a look at this ghost. It had fallen to the ground when it had lost its perch on Sam's head, and was nursing its arm, looking almost pitiful. But I didn't think it would be long until it recovered.

"Yeah, I'm fine…My head hurts though," Sam panted, rubbing the spot the ghost had grabbed her. "But what are we going to do?"

The creature gave a shrill hiss, and I saw its beady eyes staring at the table. "No idea."

"Can't you do something?" Tucker asked, an edge of panic in his voice.

I turned to face him. "Why me?"

"You're the one with the superpowers!"

I was about to protest that just because I had superpowers didn't mean that I could fight off evil demon monkeys from alternate dimensions when I was distracted by the sound of the monkey hissing.

It was back on its feet, its beady red eyes surveying the table coldly. Crouching, it slowly began to approach.

"It's afraid, that's why it's being so cautious," Sam whispered in my ear. "If we startle it badly enough, we should be able to get rid of it."

"And how do we do that?" asked Tucker. I looked around for any more ammunition to throw at it. We had run out of rocks

"Ummm…do either of you have a siren?"

The ghost, meanwhile, seemed to realize that we weren't going to attack. It was crouching in a cat-like stance, and I saw its muscles bulge. I ducked, squeezing my eyes shut.

_What can I do?_ _My ghost powers are useless in this situation… I could scream, but that would attack attention, which is the last thing I need right now. _

I heard its claws thud on the wooden surface of the table. Besides me, Sam was crouching, ready to break into a run. I knew she wouldn't be able to out run it. It could fly, for peat's sake!

Ready to feel the claws ripping through me, I waited when…

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

My mother's yell took me completely by surprise. My eyes snapped open, and I flew around (which is pretty hard to do when you're crouching, believe me).

My mother's form was gracefully jumping over the school fence, a metallic staff in her hand. She went straight into a battle stance, her green eyes flashing.

"Get away from my son, ghost!" She paused, looking confused. "Uhh…where's the ghost?"

_How can she miss it!_ I thought, but I didn't say anything. I didn't want to move, in case the monkey-ghost still attacked.

Besides me, Sam stood up. Tense she looked around.

Then I saw her muscles relax.

"What ghost?" she asked, sounding completely confused. "There's no ghost here, Mrs. Fenton."

My mom made some confused noises, and began asking Sam questions, insisting that there had to be a ghost here. Tucker and I stood up, exchanging confused glances.

I looked at the table. The ghost was gone, not a trace of it left behind. _It disappeared!_

Then I heard panting from behind me. Turning round, I saw the giant form of my Dad, running as fast as he could (which is still pretty slow,) a small metal device in his hand.

He stopped at the fence, and looked over at the four of us.

"Where's the ghosts, sweet-cakes?" he said in between pants.

"There is no ghost," Sam insisted stubbornly.

"Oh, yes there is. The Fenton Finder prototype said so."

My Dad held out the device he was carrying. It was the shape and size of a remote control (I guess that explains why we keep losing them) except it wasn't covered in buttons, but four arrows, crossed like compass points. Along the lines were LEDs. On the arrow pointing ahead, a single light was lit, accompanying a shrill beeping.

My Mom walked over to him, smiling in spite of herself. "We made it a couple years ago, but haven't had a chance to try it out. Basically, the little lights tell us which direction ghosts are, and how many are around."

My Dad butted in. "You see, we were searching for the ghost rabbit, when it started beeping. It said that there were two ghosts in the direction of the school-"

"So we headed off right away. We didn't want you or your sister to get hurt," finished my Mom. "Although, now it says there's only one."

"Uhh…Sam's right. No ghost here. I don't think its working."

I looked at Tucker. What were those two up to? They knew very well that there was a ghost here!

"Rubbish! Fenton inventions always work."

But my Mom looked skeptical. "I'm not sure Jack…this is the first time we've used this invention, and we don't know if it works. That is why we're making a new one, remember?"

Over by the school I heard the warning bell ring. It was almost the end of lunch. I could hear the voices pickup behind me, as well as some footsteps.

I shivered nervously. So far the tree had hidden us from view, but if people were getting up they might see my parents. And knowing my parents, that would probably lead to them embarrassing me.

And as freaked out as I was about monkey-ghost I didn't think my popularity could take another hit.

"Yeah, Mom, you're probably right," I agreed. "I mean, we would have seen a ghost by now, any way. You should go looking for that ghost-rabbit somewhere else."

Mom nodded absently, her expression having changed to the one she wore when trying to work something out. "Yes, Yes… Excuse me Jack."

Jack moved out of the way, giving my Mom room to jump back over the fence. She looked back at us, and saw all the students moving back into the school. "You three better get moving, it looks like its time for class."

"Yes, Mom," I said, resisting the urge to sound sarcastic.

"And stay away from ghosts!" added Dad.

"Will do Mr. F," Tucker called after them, waving towards my folks.

As if that was going to happen.

Hey, guys, thanks for all the reviews. And an extra bid than you to _Dannyandsamlover _who pointed out how indistinct the changes between scenes were. Hopefully this should be better now.


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